Fertile Imagination
by Liv Wilder
Summary: Post-5x06. "You want more kids?" she asks, and it almost comes out like a criticism as she fights to hide her surprise. "Well, I'd like the option." And since that really only leaves the option of 'kids with Kate' hanging in the air, she does the only thing she can do, which is hop right over his declaration and keep on moving like it never happened. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Planting A Seed

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination_**

**_Chapter 1 – Planting a Seed_**

Castle's unbridled glee, when he shoots the Thorian Blaster and it burns a hole straight through the wall of the Nebula 9 ship, is priceless.

Kate watches the way her partner's face lights up in childish delight when he realizes that the weapon is actually a fully-functioning laser gun, and her heart skips a beat at how largely this man lives, how free he is with his emotions, and she knows, she _knows_ that he is dragging her along with him now on his quest to live life to the fullest. And she loves it, loves _him_ for carelessly, presumptuously, making her tag along for the ride for no other reason than he wants the very best out of life for her, just like he does for everyone that he loves.

* * *

When they visit 'Q', as Castle dubs him, at his secretive workshop lair with it's vaulted ceiling made of old brick arches, his joy and excitement over firing the live laser gun is crushed when Benjamin Donnelly, the mad professor, asks him if he was wearing '_proper protection_' when firing the weapon. The old eccentric's face is a mask of wary concern as he observes Castle like a lab rat coming out the other end of a particularly dicey experiment, his eyes sliding south to look over the writer, before he haltingly turns away without expanding on the dangers or risks he has exposed himself to.

The question sends Rick into a tailspin of Castle-sized proportions. His immediate thought on hearing the words 'proper protection' jumps his brain to his nether regions, along with a defensive flutter of his hands towards his crotch and a horrified dropping of his eyes; as if he expects to look down and find his manhood somehow mutated or disappeared all together; dematerialized like Captain Kirk in his transporter beam.

Kate presses her lips together to suppress a smile and shakes her head as she still does a lot these days, though she finds it so much harder to hide the affection in the gesture, her reserves of snarkiness and impatience worn thin when she finally allowed the truth of her love for this man-child she's dating into her heart.

She changes the subject, knowing that he'll only fixate on the hidden meaning behind the mad professor's words if she lets him. But his face remains troubled all the way back to the Precinct. His hands lie in a protective tent across his lap, and she knows there is more to come on the subject. However, she lets it rest for now, lets it marinate until Castle is good and ready to blurt out whatever wacked out theory he finally comes up with. He's too quiet by half, and that's always a sign, she's learned, of fun times to come.

* * *

Back at the Twelfth, he sits in his chair, way quieter than normal, staring at his fingers while Kate chatters on about Creavers being the sworn enemy of the Nebula 9 crew; the costume a perfect disguise, allowing the killer to strike unseen. He doesn't even react when she gives him credit for this theory – so unlike him to miss out on a gloating opportunity.

He's touching his face gingerly when she calls him out on his silence.

"_Castle?_" she half-barks to get his attention.

"Do I look different to you?" he asks, frowning and clearly worried.

Kate is instantly on her guard. He's particular about his appearance – _very_ particular. The small number of times they've made it out of either of their apartments for the evening since they've been dating, Castle is _always_ the one who takes longer to get ready, even when Kate has to do her hair. So she's worried about what she'll have to deal with (slash lie about) when the next question comes out of his mouth.

"Just…I feel so tingly. Something's wrong. I'm beginning to mutate like The Hulk or The Thing…or worse, The Leader. What would happen to my hair?" he muses almost to himself, his frown deepening as his fingers tentatively reach for that thick, dark, thatch of hair that she so loves to run her fingers through.

When he tells her that he feels _tingly_, and that he thinks he's about to _mutate_, Kate quickly loses interest and starts fiddling with her phone. He's just over-reacting as usual, his Roger genes kicking in, drama set to high. At least it wasn't a real, 'does my bum look big in this, Kate?' type of question, and yes, she's had to answer those too.

She totally shocks him when she looks up from her screen tapping to say, "I prefer Dr. Manhattan."

He gives her a stunned look – surprised that she's indulging his hypochondria _and_ that she's even listening to him ramble on, because he could have sworn that she wasn't. So when she adds an explanation, coupled with the most adorable smile, he's floored.

"The blue skin - it brings out your blue eyes," she twinkles at him with a girlish grin, before heading for the exit with her bag thrown over her shoulder.

* * *

He's…shit, she _adores_ him! And that smile. And she's so goddam geek-informed it almost makes him hard right there in the gloom of the Precinct just thinking about it. And how could he not know this about her after more than four years working together? She's blowing his mind with this case and all the parts of her it's revealing…_she's_ revealing _to him_. And god but he loves her, wants her right now and forever…

But when the next thought enters his crazy brain, the panic over Ben Donnely's 'proper protection' still swirling around up there, heightened now that he sees his future..._something_ breezily dismissing his concerns and waltzing out the door like she doesn't have a care in the world, it just comes out, blurted, like he usually does with things of this magnitude where she's concerned.

"This isn't funny," he tells her, sounding something like frantic now. "What if firing that blaster made me infertile?"

And Kate is _so_ not prepared for that!

She tries to stick with easy-breezy, jaunty steps forcing her forward with him by her side as she fights to cover up her surprise. Because they haven't talked about this stuff. They haven't talked about a lot of things actually, which is largely her fault she assumes, since if Castle has something on his mind he usually just throws it right out there on the table/floor/desk/bed for all to see, no matter how unprepared it might leave her.

"You want more kids?" she asks, and it almost comes out sounding like a criticism as she fights to hide her surprise.

"Well, I'd like the option."

And since that really only leaves the option of 'kids with Kate' hanging in the air, she does the only thing she can do, which is hop right over his declaration and keep on moving like it never happened.

"Well, I think you're going to be fine, Castle," she tells him lightly, forcing out a smile, keeping her eyes neutral as she heads inexorably towards the elevator, trying to outrun this issue before he starts trying to button down his '_options_' against a specific timeframe in his fancy, tricked-out online schedule app like he usually does.

He mutters something about decontaminating and taking a separate shower as a precaution while they stand next to one another in the elevator, and Kate really has no reply to that. Her mind has whisked her off on a dry run of the discussion she now knows they need to have.

* * *

When they reach the sidewalk, she tells him that she's tired and since she has a ton of laundry to do, so she'll just head back to her place tonight, and see him at the Precinct in the morning in an attempt to stall the inevitable.

He's still obsessing over the potential for blaster aftereffects while planning an extensive Google search the minute he gets home, so he misses the troubled look in her eyes as they part with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek around the corner from the Twelfth, neither of them lingering as the autumnal air chills their faces and bites at their fingertips.

Kate has her own schedule to check when she gets home, and that sudden realization is like a ticking time bomb as she descends into the depths of the subway, chanting the words '_proper protection'_ over and over to herself in time with each click of her heels on the concrete risers of the subway stairs.

_A/N: I didn't like the way they handled this scene on the show. I mean it was fun, and they threw the topic right out there, but I thought that Kate might have given it more of a reaction, a facial expression, something. So, as usual, it bugged me until I started to write about it. Should be wrapped up in a chapter, two at most. But hey, it's me, so you never know! ;) Liv_


	2. Chapter 2 Germination

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination_**

**_Chapter 2 – Germination_**

Kate stumbles through her own front door with her bag banging against her hip and her heart in her mouth.

Her calendar, she has to check it.

She drops her bag just inside the door, toeing off her shoes as she goes, her arches aching when her Achilles tendons suddenly lengthen as her heels hit the floor, and then she heads straight towards her office and her top desk drawer.

Her mouth is dry as she reaches for the handle to slide the drawer open, and she nearly laughs out loud at herself. Castle is rubbing off on her _way_ too much. She's turning into almost as big of a drama queen as he is these days. Calm down, Kate, she tells herself silently. Calm down, you have nothing to worry about.

'So why is my stomach churning and my mouth so dry?' a little nagging voice argues back. 'Why do I feel a little more than queasy? And why,' she almost muses out loud, 'did I feel like I could have been sick in my mouth today when Gabriel Winters talked about that visit with his doctor to get antibiotics after some random threesome in his hotel room?'

"Oh dear god," she finally does groan out loud. "Please let it not be true."

* * *

When she eventually manages to thumb her way through the tissue-fine pages of the pink, slimline, leather-covered pocket calendar that she bought on a whim at The Met Museum's gift shop one lonely Saturday afternoon before she started sleeping with her partner, her eyes blink in horror at the little symbol she last annotated back in September.

Two little asterisks sandwich the letters P and S - Kate's code for _Period Start_; the date of the first day of her monthly cycle.

She started marking her calendar like this back in high school as a way to keep track, before her body settled down and she became as regular as clockwork. But the habit stuck, and so she fans the thin pages, back and forth like a flicker book, valiantly trying to prove herself wrong. But it's no use. There are no other markings after that date.

She notices that her fingers are freezing, stiff and trembling as she cradles the pocket calendar in her hands. She blinks again, but the information in front of her remains the same. She last posted the annotation back on September 16th. It's now November 5th, and she is _never_ late. _Ever_.

* * *

She heads for the bedroom next, chanting some kind of crazy mantra in her head, still hoping there's a chance she's just been too busy to keep her calendar updated, what with work and living between two different apartments and having rampant sex with her…oh yeah, that'll do it.

But when she slides open the drawer by her bedside…

"Dammit, no!" she curses, as the tiny little pills rattle inside, wobbling like minuscule pearls in their individual clear domes within the clamshell shaped plastic case.

She starts counting, loses track, and has to start again. The pills suddenly look like little blank faces staring up at her, faces that remind her far too much of the dancing baby on Ally McBeal for her liking, and worse still, there are _way_ too many of them for her schedule still to be on track.

She looks at her watch. It's getting on for eight-thirty, so unless she wants to search out the nearest twenty-four hour pharmacy, which she already knows is not in the dictionary under the definition 'nearest anything', she's going to have to hurry. Her neighborhood Duane Reade closes at nine.

* * *

At least she's still wearing her coat, one less thing to think about while her brain is performing a combination of terrifying mental leaps and bounds into the future, coupled with offering up prayers and pleas to some spiritual being she's not even certain she believes in anymore to fix things in the present.

Her keys and her wallet, together with her cellphone, somehow make their way into her pocket after she slams the front door and locks it behind her. Her brain is clearly functioning on automatic for the basics, while the more creative part is running screaming in a circle like a panicked little girl being chased around the playground by a particularly scary five-year old boy.

Why all of her fractured, fantastical thoughts have suddenly taken on an infant-themed slant, she isn't sure. But she_ is_ sure that it can't be good. Her guts may have magical properties, and therefore, so might her brain. And if that's the case, there's a good chance it's trying to tell her something with all this childlike imagery.

* * *

She enters the too-bright corner pharmacy one block north of her apartment a mere seven minutes later, blinking. She scans the aisle signs overhead looking for the one that includes Feminine Care or Sexual Health on its list. Aisle five.

Kate stops to pick up a few necessities as she passes through the store on the way to her intended target; selecting cleanser, shampoo, and a bottle of Duane Reade's own brand acetaminophen to mask her real reason for being there, feeling far too old to be the frightened looking single woman showing up at the cashier with a pregnancy test grasped in her clammy hands. She throws the extra items into the red plastic basket, and heads for the shelves full of condoms (too late), lubricant (yeah, as if), and pregnancy testing kits (please make this a false alarm).

After a frustrating few minutes spent weighing up the pros and cons of each test, she randomly grabs three and throws them into her basket before heading for the cashier.

As she passes down the vitamin aisle on her way to the front of the store, she slows by the section of pre-natal vitamins, drawn by the power of marketing to a cheerful box of Folic Acid tablets; one with a healthy, smiling, dark-haired baby on the front specifically drawing her eye. She fingers the box, biting her lip, her head and her heart at war over this suddenly very real, very exhausting, and immensely terrifying issue.

Before she can think any more deeply about it, she throws the box of vitamins into the basket, and then quickly moves on.

* * *

When she reaches the front of the store, she has to wait in line behind a fat man with a serious perspiration problem. Kate breathes through her mouth to avoid his funk as a fresh wave of nausea, similar to the one she experienced in interrogation, passes over her. To be safe, and to avoid embarrassing herself, she leaves extra space between them while he pays for his goods – a jumbo tub of talcum powder, a pair of Odor-Eaters, and two large cans of antiperspirant spray. Nothing short of Botox shots will cure this guy of his problem, and Kate feels sorry for him. Dark halos of sweat have bloomed under each armpit, staining his pale blue shirt a deeper hue, and now he puffs and pants over his groceries and his change.

Kate grabs a purple box of Good & Plenty licorice candy when she finally reaches the register, and then she dumps the whole lot on the counter; the little pink and white torpedos rattling and chattering as they skid around the carton when the box hits the inside of the shopping basket.

The woman next line over is unloading a gigantic box of diapers from the storage space underneath her fancy stroller. A pretty, olive-skinned baby is sleeping in the space above, long dark lashes feathering her plump, pink-tinged cheeks casting spidery shadows over her perfect skin beneath the artificial glow of the store's harsh lighting. A glossy bubble of baby drool shines against her rosebud of a mouth, and Kate stares and aches as she looks at the one thing she always believed she would eventually have in life, ever since she was a little girl. But the dream of one day having a family of her own all but died with her mother. In fact, until recently, it was something she was fairly certain she would never have.

Now she's terrified to even want it, terrified at the thought of disappointment, terrified to love something she might one day lose.

* * *

The double whooping sound of a police siren in the street outside snaps her out of her daydream, and she reflexively reaches for her phone, checking for any missed calls from work. Or Castle.

_Oh god, Castle._

"Miss? Miss? I said that'll be $89.96," says the cashier, trying to get her attention, her voice finally breaking through the fog in Kate's brain, drawing her back to the harsh reality of the here and now. "Plastic okay, hun?"

She nods, pays the woman, swiping her card through the machine, stabs '_credit_', then blindly scrawls her name on the small screen. She scans the cashier's care worn face, dark circles as deep as bruises beneath each eye, while she waits for her goods and her receipt.

"Honey, you have a good evening," the woman says warmly, as she packs Kate's purchases and then pushes the flimsy plastic bag towards her. "And good luck with the pregnancy," she adds in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Don't worry, the baby brain drain goes away eventually," she adds, a kindly, sympathetic smile on her face. "And believe me, I should know. I have five girls to prove it," she announces proudly.

Kate nods dumbly at the woman, eyes shining brightly with barely contained tears while the cashier chatters on, oblivious.

"Left number two in the grocery store when I was pregnant with my Jess. Took me fifteen minutes to even realize she was gone. No real harm done, 'cept I don't think she ever forgave me," she says, winking at Kate.

She can feel a rising panic threatening to choke her as the woman smiles at her again, clearly waiting for some kind of a reaction to her story.

The baby to her right begins to stir in its stroller, tiny legs kicking off a brightly patterned blanket to reveal the fleece-covered feet of some footie pajamas; the soft pink fabric decorated with miniscule dancing penguins.

"I…uh…thank you. It was nice talking with you," she manages to mumble, flinching as the baby starts to grizzle, a squeaky, mewling complaint emitting from those perfect rosebud lips.

* * *

Kate flees the store, suddenly feeling too hot, the pharmacy too bright and yet claustrophobic all at once. She hurries out into the busy street desperate for air, needing to calm her racing heart. But even out on the street there is no escaping the seemingly endless parade of infants and toddlers being carted and pushed and paraded around the city, even at this time of night.

So she pulls out her phone and she does the only thing that makes any sense to her right now…she calls Lanie.

_A/N: Yep, as usual, I feel like I'm going to have an epic fail on that predicted chapter count. (Nic, you'll be delighted I'm guessing). My imagination ran away with me again, and since I've never done a pregnancy/pregnancy scare storyline before, I thought it was too good a chance to pass up involving Lanie in the fun. The response to chapter one was great, so I assume y'all are up for a little more. Liv_


	3. Chapter 3 Growth

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination_**

**_Chapter 3 – Growth_**

"Hi, sweetie. Come on in," says Lanie warmly, opening the door to her apartment wide, then taking Kate by the elbow to lead her inside.

At first glance, her friend looks pale, pale and worried.

"Did you and Castle have a fight?" asks Lanie, her voice full of sass, the question so matter-of-fact since that's what she assumes this is all about.

She's so sure of her assessment of the situation since she got Kate's call and heard her wobbly voice on the other end of the line, that she almost doesn't listen to the answer, just guides her over to the sofa where she already has an open bottle of Pinot Grigio waiting for them along with an unopened bag of Hershey's Kisses Esposito gave her back on Valentine's. Kate's call came out of the blue, leaving her a little unprepared for a girl's night in. So she's improvising.

"We didn't have a fight," says Kate flatly, her voice veering towards monotone.

She sits heavily, far too biddable for Lanie's liking, dropping the crackly plastic bag she's been carrying onto the floor by her feet.

"Were you…? Honey, were you out shopping when you called? I wasn't sure if Castle was with you, but…"

Lanie ducks her head, trying to catch her friend's eye, but failing to draw her gaze away from the two empty wine glasses the M.E. has set out on her coffee table.

So Lanie takes what she thinks is a hint, and begins to pour out a glass of wine, which she then hands to Kate. The detective takes the glass wordlessly, balancing it between her near-numb fingers and her jean-clad thigh. But she fails to take a sip or even raise it anywhere near her lips.

"So, where _is_ loverboy this evening?" teases Lanie. "He give you the night off?" she chuckles, bumping her girlfriend's shoulder in an attempt at playfulness, trying anything to draw her out of this stupor she appears to be in.

Kate feels an irritation begin rising within her, making her skin prickle uncomfortably at her friend's little jibe. She has often worried, even more so since they got together, that her friends don't take Castle seriously enough, that despite his countless displays of loyalty, intelligence, and generosity, he is still the butt of far too many jokes.

This feels wrong all of a sudden, like she's about the share an intimacy with entirely the wrong person.

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry. Coming over here was a mistake. Lanie, I should go," says Kate, rubbing her forehead tiredly against the heel of her hand, eyes dropping closed briefly as she shakes her head. "I need to…Castle. I should really be talking to Castle," she says, placing her untouched wine glass back on the glass-topped table and standing abruptly.

She sways once she's on her feet, blood rushing to her head at the sudden movement, and when she steps to the side to steady herself on the arm of the sofa, her foot catches the Duane Reade bag, kicking it over, and a couple of items skid out onto the floor.

Her eyes settle in horror on one of the pregnancy tests, and she reaches down for it, shoots her hand out. But Lanie is faster.

* * *

"Is…Kate, is this why you came here tonight? You're _pregnant_, honey?" she asks in a softer voice, trying to take Kate's hand.

"Just…Lanie, give me the test. I need to go," she says, holding her hand out for the pink and blue box, her voice tight, laced with exhaustion.

"Oh Kate. How about you take a seat and we talk about this? You don't look like you're in any fit state to be going anywhere right now. Have you even eaten?" she asks, leveling her friend with her best Lanie glare, hands on hips for good measure.

Kate does feel like she is running on empty. She couldn't even think straight enough to open the box of licorice candies on the cab ride over, and her stomach is threatening to give her away by rumbling loudly at any second.

Lanie seizes on Kate's momentary hesitation, guiding her towards the kitchen counter and pressing her down gently onto a stool.

"Sit. I'll make us some food, and then we can talk or not talk. It's totally up to you."

"But, Castle…" protests Kate, trying to stand again until another waves of dizziness hits her, pressing her back down onto the stool.

"That boy ain't going anywhere tonight, honey. If you two are having a break from…whatever it is I imagine you've been doing the last few months to make up for the last four years of stupid, then I expect he's passed out on his sofa asleep right now, taking a well earned rest."

Kate blushes as much as she smiles at Lanie's too-true statement, and then she acquiesces to her friend's request, leaning forward on her elbows to watch in silent exhaustion as the M.E. begins flitting around her kitchen, pulling together a sharing plate of olives, cheese, sliced salamis and chorizo, in addition to some roasted, unsalted almonds. She adds a ciabatta loaf and a bowl of hummus to top the whole thing off and slices up a couple of pears. Given the strong flavors and accompanying aromas, it's not exactly ideal early pregnancy food, but…

"Lanie, this is…just perfect," says Kate, immediately stealing a handful of nuts to stave off the sudden resurgence of hunger and to stop her head from pounding.

They eat quietly for a few minutes. Lanie replaces Kate's wine with a glass of water, and takes small sips from her own glass as she studies her friend quietly over the rim.

In the past, Kate was never any good at sharing, but since she and Castle got together, Lanie has seen a new lightness in her friend's eyes, her movements, and her dealings with people too.

And as much as Kate is no good at talking, Lanie has never been any good at shutting up.

* * *

"Honey, I don't mean to pry..." she begins, leaving the statement open for a few seconds hoping Kate will just jump in without further urging.

No such luck.

The detective just leans over her plate, wiping up a smear of hummus with a small piece of Italian bread before popping it into her mouth and taking another sip of water as if Lanie hasn't spoke at all.

"Kate?" Lanie asks gently, wondering if there's more to her silence than she's been guessing. "Have you already taken a test, sweetie? Does Castle already know that you're pregnant? Is that what this is all about? Did that insensitive fool tell you he didn't want the child? Cause I saw the box of pre-natal vitamins in your bag… Seems to me like you've already made your mind up."

Kate looks up suddenly, her face the very picture of horrified at her friend's suggestion.

Because, shit, that thought never even occurred to her. If she _is_ pregnant, he might not even want it. Maybe the idea of '_having the option'_ was enough for him, and the reality of that option being presented to him as a fait accompli will be a complete turnoff. Oh hell.

"Sweetie? Is that what this is?" nudges Lanie gently.

"No. No, I…I haven't even taken the test," Kate finally explains, dropping her head into her hands, a tear sliding down her cheek and dropping onto her plate with a fat plop.

"And what makes you _think_ you might be pregnant? Are you late?"

"I…I, yes. I guess I am…a little. I've just been so distracted lately, what with work, and the whole Tyson thing, and…"

"_Castle_," supplies Lanie, laying a sympathetic hand on Kate's arm. "Oh, honey, it's okay," she tells her friend, when she drops her head again in embarrassment.

"No, it's not. I'm not a kid, Lanie," she groans, covering her eyes with her hand. "I know better than this. I'm usually so…methodical, careful. A few months with Castle and suddenly I'm acting like an irresponsible teen? What is _with_ that?" she bites, the disappointment and criticism entirely directed at herself.

"You're comfortable with him is all. I'm guessing he makes you feel safe?" Lanie suggests, and Kate gives a small nod in reply. "And loved? Cherished?" Another nod. "Special, like you're the only one that matters?" Again, a nod. "Then everything is going to be just fine, Kate. You'll see. You guys have got through a lot worse than a baby."

Kate groans loudly and drops her head back into her hands.

"Have you…is this something you've talked about? With him, I mean?" she asks gingerly.

"No. We haven't quite got around to the big stuff yet," she admits. "We were just…having too much fun, I guess," laughs Kate, sniffing loudly until Lanie fetches her a box of Kleenex.

"So it never came up? Not even in idle conversation?"

"It came up for the first time today, actually. That's…that's what got me thinking, about dates and stuff," Kate begins to explain. "Castle shot this laser gun while we were working the case at Supernova Con. The one Perlmutter caught. Anyway, turns out the gun was live, and when we tracked down the inventor he asked Castle if he used 'proper protection' when he fired it."

"Uh-huh. And I'm guessing it sent that boy of yours into one hypochondriac tailspin?" drawled Lanie, rolling her eyes.

Kate nodded, a small press-lipped smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at the very thought of him. Beautiful, irritating man-child.

"I thought it was funny at first. He was flexing his fingers and touching his face like he expected to…I don't know, _mutate_ or something at any second. Then he started talking about how everything was tingling and he thought he was about to turn into The Hulk or…or The Thing. He even asked me if he looked different. You know how he gets. He's like a big kid sometimes."

"Sure do. Definitely inherited the drama gene straight from his mamma, that one."

"Anyway, as we're leaving the Precinct tonight, he tells me off for not taking it seriously enough, and then he suddenly comes out with the ultimate plot twist – what if he's infertile?"

"_No!_" gasps Lanie. "And what did you say to that?"

"I…" Kate frowns, trying to remember exactly what she did say. "Yeah, I think I asked him if he wanted more kids. But, I _do_ remember sounding completely surprised that he might. Like he would be mad to."

"And what did _he_ say?"

"That he wanted to have the option."

"Well, that's good. At least he's open to the possibility."

"Yeah, well, women don't want to reach the menopause because they don't want the certainty that their child-bearing days are over. Doesn't mean they actually _want _to be pregnant. It's a theoretical option."

"But what if it isn't for him? _Hmm_? What if he really _does_ want more kids and he just doesn't want to scare you off by bringing it up this soon? Did you ever think of that?"

"Lanie," Kate whines, "I've barely thought about anything other than getting those tests and figuring it out in my own head since I realized a couple of hours ago that I might actually be…you know…?" she nods at her friend, eyes wide with fright.

"_Late?_" supplies Lanie.

"Yeah, that."

"Well then, I think it's time you took one of those tests. Don't you?"

"Oh god. Right now? Like actually, _right…now_?" says Kate, with a look of frozen panic on her face.

"No time like the present," sing songs Lanie. "All this worry might be for nothing. But you won't know unless you take the test."

"But…but I feel…sort of…unprepared," admits Kate, floundering in a way that is just so unlike her.

"Honey, you've been preparing for this your whole life. As women, we all are. It's not something you were supposed to study for. You didn't miss some big announcement when you were passing notes to your high school crush in homeroom. You can _do_ this," she reassures her friend.

The M.E. goes over to the plastic bag and takes out one of the tests, and when she brings it over to Kate, she presses the box into her hands and says, "You hunt murders for a living, Kate, so I know you can do this, sweetie. Now, you know where the bathroom is."

Kate stares down at the box in her hands for a second, and then she hops down off the stool.

"Good girl," says Lanie, offering as much encouragement as she can.

* * *

She walks her friend down the hall towards the bathroom, and when they get outside, Lanie, ever the scientist, asks, "Now where are the instructions? Open up the box and let's get them out and take a look."

"I might not have done this before," bites Kate, a little sharply, "But I'm pretty sure you just pee on the stick. How hard can it be? Now, just…shoo," she tells Lanie, wafting her away down the hall so she can have some privacy.

"I'll be right outside. Call if you need anything," yells Lanie, creeping back towards the bathroom to wait nearby as soon as Kate closes the door.

Seconds pass, then whole minutes, and Lanie can hear nothing coming from Kate's side of the door. No sound at all. Eventually she gets anxious.

"You okay in there?" she calls out.

When the door swings open, and Kate's pale face appears, Lanie rushes forward.

"_Well?_" she asks expectantly, trying to hide her own nervous excitement.

"I couldn't do it," sighs Kate, shaking her head, the box still balanced in her hands, unopened. "What if it's positive and he doesn't want… Lanie, this could _ruin_ us," she moans, tears brimming in her eyes.

"And it could be the making of something wonderful for both of you. But you won't know that until you take the test, sweetie, and then deal with the consequences."

"But everything has been so amazing, _we've_ been so amazing, since we got together. And it's been easy, Lanie. So much easier than I thought it would be. And I just…I don't want to lose that or do anything that might jeopardize it."

"This isn't all on you, Kate. It kinda takes two to do the horizontal mambo, if you remember? This is _his_ doing too. So you deal with it together."

"You know he hasn't even told me that he loves me since we got together," she admits in a small voice, that little nugget of self-doubt creeping in again to torment her when she's at an emotional low.

"Oh Kate, any fool can see how much that man loves you. So he's holding off on the words – big deal. Maybe he thinks you'll feel obliged to say them right back, and he doesn't think you're ready for that yet. Ever think of that, _hmm_? That he might be trying to take some of the pressure off?"

"Yes, but…"

"But nothing. This guy, this famous, handsome, millionaire novelist may I remind you, waited _years_ to be with you Kate. If that isn't love, then I don't know what is. And he is an amazing father, he takes care of his mom, he's been taking care of _you_ for years when you'd let him…do I even have to say anymore?"

"Agreed, but he is also still the same immature, self-centered, egotistical jackass you and I just talked about a few weeks ago. The man has a life-size Boba Fett doll in his bathroom for god's sake," Kate confesses.

"He…he does? For real?" asks Lanie, eyes bugging out, half-horrified, half-impressed.

"Mmm. Scared the shit out of me for months," admits Kate, unable to hold back a smile.

"And yet he still makes you smile more than any man I've ever known, Kate. And that is worth a whole helluva lot, believe me."

"I guess," sighs Kate, still not entirely convinced, but getting there.

"And can I just remind you once more, before you get distracted by the sci-fi geek, action figure-loving, Angry Birds-obsessed, laser tag-playing, chest-signing, bimbo-dating Castle of old…"

"Thanks, Lanie. But, _so_ not helping right now," interrupts Kate, shaking her head at her friend.

"Right. Sorry. I got a little off track…" Lanie admits, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture as if she can just erase the last thirty seconds. "_Anyway_, that he single-handedly raised an amazingly intelligent, beautiful, kind, independent, responsible kid. In fact, _the_ most responsible teen I've ever met in my life. And I should know, since the girl actually works for me."

"You do have a point there," concedes Kate.

"Okay. So just take the damn test already. Or do I have to come in there and supervise?" threatens the M.E., hands back on hips to reinforce her authority in the face of Kate's superior stature.

* * *

When Kate emerges from the bathroom a second time, her expression is inscrutable. She's holding the little white stick in her hand, fingers gripping the plastic wand so hard that her knuckles have turned white.

"_Well?_" asks Lanie, an eager shine to her dark eyes.

"It's positive," sighs Kate, finally handing the evidence over for Lanie to check.

"And you're sure you did it right?" asks Lanie, staring at the digital readout that says '_Pregnant_' in no uncertain terms.

"I peed on the stick," says Kate flatly. "This showed up after thirty seconds. I'm pretty sure I'm reading it right," she adds, with just a hint of sarcasm that Lanie actually takes as a good sign.

"Okay. _So_…" she flounders for the next best thing to say.

"So, I think I need a drink," murmurs Kate, heading for the sofa.

"I'll get you a cranberry juice, honey. Just take a seat, we'll wait a bit, and then you can take another test just to be sure."

Kate smiles weakly at her friend, and then catches her arm on the way past, spinning her round into a completely unexpected hug.

And this is all Castle's doing Lanie realizes - this sudden display of affection and gratitude coming from her previously buttoned-up friend. The man is good for her, that's for sure.

"Oh, sweetie. It's going to be okay," coos Lanie, rubbing Kate's back. "You'll see."

"I know," Kate chokes out, trying to stifle a full on sob as the tears finally begin to fall. "That's what I'm afraid of."

_A/N: How're we doing so far? You still with me? Next chapter should be interesting. May have to add 'angst' to the story description. ;) Liv_


	4. Chapter 4 Early Development

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination_**

**_Chapter 4 – Early Development_**

"Castle, we need to talk."

She corners him as soon as he comes off the elevator, trying to look casual and relaxed walking beside him, and not like she's been staring at the elevator doors through the bullpen's half-grill ever since she first arrived at her desk over an hour ago.

"Talk? Sure. And a very good morning to you, Detective," he adds jauntily, completely failing to read the anxiety and exhaustion in her eyes. "Did you finally pick a place for dinner Friday night? 'Cause I should really make a move on getting us a reservation."

He asks this so breezily, so naturally, that Kate nearly caves and lies and hides, quite frankly, from what she knows she has to do. It would be so easy to just go out for a lovely, romantic dinner with him and forget, then fall into bed and let him distract the hell out of her until the sun comes up.

Damn her responsible self!

* * *

"It…it's not really about that. We…we need to talk about something… Something a little more _serious,_" she says, frowning at her own choice of words.

Yeah, as a freakin' heart attack, she thinks.

"_Right?_" Castle says slowly, and it comes out as more of question, because the guy clearly has no clue what she's getting at, and why should he?

"Yeah, so…uh. But not here," she adds, shaking her head, feeling the lack of sleep suddenly weighing her down; slowing her brain and her speech patterns.

"Oooo, secret agent stuff. I like it," he grins, missing her demeanor by a mile as he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

_Oh God!_

And Kate wonders for the umpteenth time why they are always so perfectly in tune, until it comes to issues like this – personal issues.

"No secret agent stuff, Castle," she says, trying to be patient with him and keep the cranky edge out of her voice. "It's…it's _personal stuff_. Okay?"

"Oh. _Oh!_" he says, eyes widening in fake-realization as he covers his mouth with his hand, aiming to look like he suddenly knows what she's getting at, while his mind back-peddles fast trying to figure out what on earth he could possibly have done wrong this time.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Kate asks, letting him know that she sees right through him.

"It's…it's not…I mean, I didn't miss your birthday, did I?" he asks hesitantly, quickly looking down at the calendar on his phone to recheck the date he already knows by heart (along with her social security number).

"_No._"

"Anniversary then? I mean, I know we just passed five months, but we agreed that we wouldn't…"

"Shhh," says Kate, taking him by the wrist and leading him off to a quieter, more discreet corner of the bullpen. "It's not about our anniversary, Castle. And from what I remember of that night, you already took care of my…_gift_…" she whispers, her face getting warm from the memory alone.

_Oh shit._

"Then…? Kate? Kate, are you okay?" he asks, waving a hand in front of her face, because she suddenly looks like she's drifted off somewhere else, her eyes blank and unfocused.

* * *

The night of their anniversary…

They had agreed beforehand that they weren't going to do anything special - no gifts, no fancy meals - and then he had called that evening when she was home alone, and she was missing him naturally, so she threw some clean underwear, a shirt, and her cosmetics purse into a bag, and rushed over to the loft without a second's hesitation. That evening, they managed to surpass their previous record of four times in one night. She couldn't sit down for two days straight without wincing, and then she had to visit her doctor for antibiotics to combat what her OB/GYN described as 'honeymoon cystitis'.

_Fuck!_ Antibiotics _and_ missed pills.

Castle felt so guilty about her discomfort that he insisted she stay with him for the rest of the week so that he could look after her. She was sick of the sight of cranberry juice by the end of the first day, since he made her drink a ton of the stuff. And they were back to having what she now realizes was basically unprotected sex after two days.

* * *

"Kate? Talk to me," says Castle, his rich, deep voice breaking into her thoughts. "You're scaring me. Is it Gates? Did she find out about us? Is that what this is about?"

Kate shakes her head, wanting nothing more than to just lose herself in those kind blue eyes.

"Well, look, whatever it is, you know you can always talk to me. Right? About anything."

And he asks her so gently that she almost gives in, right there under the stairs, and confesses.

But then she sees Ryan and Esposito looking their way, whispering to one another. And the guys have been so good about keeping their relationship a secret from Gates and everyone else at work that she doesn't want to abuse their loyalty. So she pulls herself together, pats Castle on the chest, and says, "It'll keep until later. Please don't worry."

* * *

He sends her questioning looks every few seconds from his side-saddle position next to her desk, and she tries so hard to ignore them, burying her head in paperwork from the on-going Supernova Con case. But the words just swim in front of her eyes and her mind flits all over the place, imagining all the different ways this might play out.

When the phone on her desk rings, she jumps so violently that all three men stare at her.

"Just…uh, Castle, could you get me some more coffee?" she asks, her heart racing as she lifts the handset to her shoulder, trying to distract everyone after this spectacular display from her out-of-control startle response.

"Looks like more caffeine is the last thing _you_ need," says Esposito drolly, earning himself a glare from Kate. "Jus' sayin', Beckett," he adds sheepishly, ducking his head back down behind his computer screen when she continues her unwavering death-glare.

"You know what? Espo's right," says Kate quickly, making Castle pause midway out of his chair. "I…I must have overdone the coffee at home this morning. Peppermint tea for me, if you don't mind?" she adds, smiling tightly at him to cover-up her strange behavior.

"Peppermint…? You sure you're okay, Beckett?" asks Castle, tempted to place a hand on her forehead to test for a fever just as Gates drifts past with that fierce, critical look on her face she especially reserves for the writer.

Luckily for Kate, he hurries off to the break room without any further questions to escape the wrath of Captain Gates.

* * *

"Kate, honey? Kate are you there?"

Lanie's voice drifts tinnily out of the phone's receiver, and Kate startles, having forgotten all about the call in her rush to throw Castle off the scent.

"Sorry. Yes, Lanie, I'm right here," she tells her friend breathily.

"How're you holding up, sweetie? Did you tell him yet?"

"I...uh…I'm fine, Lanie. How're you?" asks Kate, stiffly.

"Are those boys listening in again?" asks Lanie, haughtily.

"When are they not?"

"So, did you tell him? Just say yes or no."

"No. Not yet. I didn't get a chance."

"Didn't get a chance or got cold feet? Which one is it, Kate?"

"Don't…please don't push me over this, Lanie. I'll tell him in my own time. But I can't do it here."

"Can't do what here?" booms Castle's voice, right next to her ear as he bends down to plant a fresh mug of steaming hot peppermint tea under her nose.

The minty freshness of the tea smells too much like cheap toothpaste, and it almost makes her gag. And the sudden bark of Castle's voice so close to her ear has her half-levitating out of her chair in guilty fright.

"Jeez, Rick!" she exclaims. "What have I _told_ you about some stuff staying private?" she bites back, the words coming out far sharper than she means them to.

Great. Now Castle looks wounded, Ryan and Esposito look far too intrigued by their little exchange, and the rest of the bullpen is staring at her for dressing down her partner in public.

"Uh…Lanie, I'm going to have to call you back," she says into the handset, as Castle slumps down in the seat opposite looking like a little puppy that just got kicked.

"Honey, just take it easy. Everything is going to work out for the best, you'll see," her friend purrs into her ear, trying to calm her down. "He loves you and you love him. Just remember that."

"Thanks, Lanie. You're a really good friend," she says into the phone. "And thanks again for last night," she adds as an afterthought, forgetting that Castle is sitting right there, and while he might be dejected, he still has two functioning ears. "I'm sorry I landed all of that on you at such short notice."

* * *

When she rings off, Castle is staring at her with a look of undisguised hurt and confusion on his face. Because why does a woman suddenly land on her girlfriend's doorstep at night, when she's already told her boyfriend that she's too tired to spend the evening with him and needs a night alone to do laundry? And why do they usually follow that girl-chat up with a little, '_honey, we need to talk_' the following day?

'_Because they want to break up with you, idiot!_' Castle's brain screams at him.

The boys are making a really bad job of pretending they're not staring too, as they dodge back and forth behind their computer screens, sneaking glances when they think she isn't looking.

* * *

Kate stands up just a fraction of a second before Castle does, their synchronicity still amazing all these years later. They stare at one another, both with matching looks of terror on their faces, though for completely different reasons.

Castle finally sees the exhaustion painted across Kate's face; the deeper lines etched either side of her mouth, smudgy dark circles underneath each eye, and to him it all adds up, all makes sense now. Two and two equals five.

Kate drags her eyes away from him to speak to the boys.

"Guys, I…eh…I know I shouldn't even be asking. But, I'm…"

She falters, looks over at her partner again, sees the worry she has put on that happy face he arrived with this morning, and it makes her straighten her spine and try again.

"Look, I need to take a little personal time. With Castle. Could you…?"

"Whatever you need," they both tumble out in unison, without a second's hesitation.

"Yeah, Beckett. We've got your back," adds Esposito.

"Take as long as you need," says Ryan, waving them both away with his hands, like they don't even want to know what this request for cover is all about.

* * *

But as soon as their backs are turned…

"So, what do you think all that was about?" asks Esposito, leaning eagerly across the desk towards his partner, like a couple of gossipy women over a backyard fence.

"My money's on he snooped through her apartment, went through her drawers. Or...or maybe he real her email? Did you hear the way she snapped at him about keeping things private?"

"Nah, they drink out of the same coffee cup half the time, bro. No. My money's on he cheated," says Esposito, holding out his hand. "Call it twenty?"

"After that Kristina Cottera fiasco? No way, dude," says Ryan. "Besides, the guy rivals _me_ for lovesick these days. Have you _seen_ the way he stares at her when he thinks we're not looking? Seriously. That guy is sleeping with the _last _woman he'll ever talk into bed."

"_Castle?"_ Esposito scoffs. "No way, bro. He is a _player _from way back. So, don't be giving me any of that Ladies' Home Journal shit. And don't talk about mom and dad like that either. You're creeping me out, bro."

"Sorry, man."

"Say no more," says Esposito, turning back to his case files.

_A/N: Not too high on the angst-o-meter folks…yet! Mwah hahaha! Only kidding. Loving your comments. Still with me? Liv_


	5. Chapter 5 Putting Down Roots

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination_**

**_Chapter 5 – Putting Down Roots_**

The ride down in the elevator is fraught and silent. Kate is desperate to get out of the building without running into Gates or having her cell phone go off. And Castle is reading way too much into every hitch in Kate's breathing and every inch of space she absentmindedly puts between them as she paces the floor of the rapidly sinking metal box.

By the time they hit the street, he's as twitchy as she is, and they stop and look at one another with a new uncertainty once they reach freedom, neither one exactly sure what happens next.

"_So_," Castle says at length, "you wanted to talk? Let's talk. Where do you want to…?"

"Not here," says Kate, shaking her head, unconsciously prolonging Castle's agony second by ticking second as she thinks of somewhere for them to go; somewhere neutral.

Somewhere…_appropriate_.

"Walk with me?" she asks suddenly, the tension on her face easing just a fraction at the thought of forward motion and the familiarity of the two of them, side-by-side, shoulders and arms bumping genially.

"Wh…where are we going?" he asks, hurrying after her nevertheless.

Because, basically, he'd follow her to the ends of the earth for the promise of just one more day and one more smile.

* * *

Kate is fast, her strides long, those legs he loves being put to good use as she steps it out, quickly putting space between them.

"You comin', Castle?" she asks, looking back over her shoulder at him with the same teasing, come hither look she threw him back in that alley the day before Alexis' graduation, the day she agreed to watch a John Woo marathon with him, the day he thought they might just have a chance.

They cut along East 5th Street until they hit 2nd Avenue, and then they walk south for several blocks until they hit the busy intersection and noisy, mid-morning traffic on East Houston. It's not a great neighborhood, but the sun is shining, making it a perfect Fall day, and she's still here, leading him off into the unknown, so that feels comforting at least.

So far, there's no talking, and Castle is trying, man is he trying, to take Kate's lead in this. So he's keeping his mouth shut as if his life depended upon it. He sneaks glances at her every few steps. She seems calmer now that they're outdoors, as if the fresh air might be doing her some good, so he goes with it.

Eventually, like all human beings, however, he does revert to type.

"Are we…is it far?" he finally asks, like a little kid, the subtext clearly yelling '_are we there yet?_'

But his question doesn't seem to trouble her. If anything, she's amused by it, maybe even expects it. She just throws him a smile, and then stops by the curb to hail a cab.

"I…Kate, no," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, frustrated at himself. "Look, I didn't mean for us to stop walking. The walking is nice. The weather is…"

"Relax, Castle," says Kate, briefly laying her hand on his arm, the first time he can recall her touching him all morning. "Where we're going…I was…I was just a little ambitious thinking we could walk the whole way today," she reassures him.

* * *

A yellow medallion cab pulls up beside them, and Kate opens the door, holding a hand out to usher her partner in ahead of her.

Castle hesitates for a moment, and then ducks his head and slides inside. They sit with a few spare inches between them, the hump in the middle of the floor keeping them apart. An excuse, Castle thinks, since she's crawled right into his lap before now in the back of a cab.

What a night that was…

He shakes his head to clear the arousing image, tries to hide his unease, relishing every bump of her shoulder against his when the driver slings a sharp left onto Broadway, narrowly making the light, and he has to steady her with a hand to her elbow.

"Whoa. You okay there?" he asks her, as the cabbie jerks abruptly to a halt in traffic. "Easy on the brakes, buddy," mutters Castle, staring out of the window to see just where they are now.

Kate looks a little pale now that they're inside the confines of the airless cab, and the kangarooing motion the taxi is making down through SoHo isn't helping her sensitive stomach.

"I'll be fine," she reassures him, sliding her hand across the small space between them to squeeze his fingers.

She may as well be holding his heart in her hand for all the difference it would make to how much he's feeling when she touches him. He bites back a moan of complaint when her hand leaves his, and she leans forward to tap on the Plexiglas screen, issuing a new set of instructions to the driver to curtail their original journey.

* * *

They eventually get out on the corner of Broadway and Warren Street, down in the Financial District.

"City Hall Park? Is this where you wanted to bring me?" he asks, staring through the gates at the garish sculpture of a giant, inflatable bottle of Daddies Ketchup, a full story high, that stands proudly, if incongruously, at the entrance to the park.

"Patience, Castle," teases Kate, and he sees that flash of love and undisguised affection in her eyes that he's become so accustomed to that it's almost like oxygen to him now. And his chest squeezes around the anxiety that keeps rolling through him this morning, none of the thoughts he's currently having making any sense if she's still looking at him like that.

Kate guides them away from the park, across Murray Street, and then steers them left into Church Street. The sun strikes their faces as they begin to walk south again, casting long shadows between the tall buildings, and finally throwing its full radiance on the partially-completed, mirrored glass façade of One World Trade Center.

"The Memorial? Is that where we're going?"

Kate shakes her head. "Not today."

When the back of her hand brushes his, and she holds it there for a few seconds before sliding her palm into his and clasping hands with him, he feels way more emotional than he should. This time, when he glances across at her, she's looking back at him, smiling, and then she tugs on his hand, leading him left into Vesey Street with the towering monument to New York's resilience rising up behind them out of the depths of one of the world's largest construction sites.

* * *

Kate finds the gates set in the metal railings that surround the grounds of St. Paul's Chapel easily, so accustomed as she was to coming here in the past.

"This place?" Castle asks, stopping her with a hand to her arm, still refusing to let go of her other hand.

"Mmm-hmm," Kate nods, and then leads him into the grounds.

They're suddenly out of the flow of human traffic that floods into this area of lower Manhattan everyday – the workers who file into the city Monday to Friday from the four outer boroughs and from all over Manhattan itself to work in the Financial District or help rebuild Ground Zero, and the tourists from all over the world who come here to visit the site of the most deadly terror attack ever perpetrated on American soil; eyes wide, hearts full at the dizzying scale of it all.

The cemetery that surrounds St. Paul's Chapel is peaceful; a green oasis in this busy, dirty, noisy, part of the city, and Castle feels his body relax slightly once they cross its leafy threshold.

"Come on. Let's go over here. There's a place where we can sit," says Kate, leading Castle by the hand to a shady spot under an old tree.

"You've been here before, I assume?" he asks, once they're settled side-by-side on a flaking wooden bench, early Fall leaves littering the grass all around them.

They're not holding hands anymore. Kate is leaning forward, her forearms resting against her knees as she studies the ground beneath her feet. Her hair has fallen slightly forwards too, curls obscuring her face from view.

He instantly misses that beautiful, expressive face. How ridiculous. And how did he ever survive three whole months without her? If he had to do that now, he thinks it might just kill him.

* * *

"Did you know that this church survived the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9/11 with only a couple of broken windows?" she asks, eventually turning her head to look at Castle, blinking when a shaft of autumn sunlight shifts through the leaves of the tree above, gilding her eyelashes.

"I…no, I have to admit that I didn't."

"All around where we're sitting, even beneath our feet, this whole cemetery was awash with dust and debris and reams and reams of paper. They said it looked like a nuclear winter. But that old church just went right on standing," explains Kate, with some pride in her voice as she turns to look at the historic, Georgian chapel - the oldest surviving church in Manhattan.

Castle watches her, vaguely wondering where she's going with this. But he loves it when she opens up to him and recounts stories from her past. He could listen to her talk all day, everyday, until the end of time, and never tire of the sound of her voice.

"Is this…does this place have some special meaning for you?" he asks tentatively, not wanting to break her flow, but so eager to claim every little detail she's willing to share with him.

Kate waits a beat or two before answering, needing to get the words in order, get her story straight, so that it makes sense to him when she tells him how it dovetails with where they are today.

* * *

"My dad used to represent a brokerage firm over on Wall Street, close to the Exchange. And, I would come and meet him after school sometimes. We would go to Battery Park and watch the old timers fishing. Or walk down to the ferry terminal and ride the ferry over to Staten Island, just for fun. Then ride it right back again, after we'd stopped off for ice cream of course."

"Ice cream. Of course," repeats Castle, with a soft smile, nodding along, already hooked by her tale. "How old were you?" he asks, imagining a fresh-faced, middle school version of little Katie Beckett, before tragedy marred her young life and dragged her off into the dark.

"Ten, eleven. My mom worked long hours, and since the markets closed at four and the brokerage firm shut up shop early on Fridays, his meetings there always finished early too. So, dad and I would spend time together doing fun stuff until mom was free to join us for dinner."

"And this place?"

"They had an after-school club for kids, I guess you'd call it now. Back then it was a kind of informal drop-in play center run by some volunteers from the church, mostly for the children of city workers. I used to come here on rainy days to hang out with the other kids and wait for my dad. They had this cool library full of secondhand books; mostly tattered paperbacks donated by the church's parishioners. But to me, it was library heaven; where musty, fascinating, old books came to die. I could pick out whatever I wanted, and then exchange it for something else on my next visit."

"Sounds right up my street."

"Yes. Yes, it was," agrees Kate, giving him a fleeting, shy smile. "I probably read things I shouldn't have at that age, but…" she shrugs.

"So, you were always precocious," he teases her. "I guess that's why you remind me a little of Alexis at times," he muses out loud, earning a groan of protest from Kate.

"Hey, mind out of the gutter, Beckett. We're on hallowed ground," he scolds, turning to flash her a grin.

And it feels so easy between them that he just wants to kiss her and hold her hand and then take her home to bed. But he can tell that she has more to say, so he falls silent again so that she can resume her tale.

* * *

"So, there were the books. But the first thing that led me to this place was the garden we're in now. I know it doesn't look like much today, just a few trees, some grass and a bunch of gravestones and creepy old statues. But in this part of town, green spaces are rare, and to me it looked like The Secret Garden. I'd play hide-and-go-seek with a big gang of the other kids."

Kate smiles to herself at some memory she's clearly reliving, and Castle watches her quietly as she presses her fingertips to her lips and shakes her head, recalling what, he's not sure. But she looks happy, and for him, that's all that matters.

"You know, it's amazing how completely you can hide behind a tombstone when you're small," she continues. "And you should have heard the screams when I jumped out on those boys," Kate laughs, exposing her lovely smile to him again.

"Learned your ninja powers early then?" jokes Castle, daring to nudge her shoulder gently.

She feels sick with nerves, and her stomach is churning, but she pushes on with her story as they near the most up-to-date part.

* * *

"In the days after 9/11, this place functioned as a sanctuary for the rescue workers. They were offered food, counseling, a quiet place to pray or just sit. I volunteered here for a few of weeks. The Chapel was open around the clock, so whatever grunt work I was assigned to and wherever my shift sent me that day, I came here straight afterwards, and helped out for a few hours. Everyone was dead on their feet most of the time, me included. But when I saw St. Paul's on TV in the days after… Well, I knew that I could make a small difference here," she nods to herself, reasserting her belief from all those years ago.

"I was still grieving for my mom, and, in a strange way, it felt as if all these people were grieving along with me. My dad…he was lost at the bottom of a bottle back then, and I just felt so lonely most of the time, Castle. These people became my surrogate family for that brief few weeks."

Her honesty is crushing him. Castle reaches for her hand and squeezes it, hoping to convey some small crumb of comfort, so cut up that he wasn't there for her when she so badly needed a friend that she had to rely on strangers to help her through.

But Kate eventually withdraws her hand, needing to use her own resilience to finish off her story; needing to stand on her own two feet for this, so that he can decide what comes next from a place of honesty, and not out of pity for her past.

"This place sheltered me as a child, it gave me some great memories, and now it was my turn to do the same for someone else."

"Wow. We…we've never really talked about that time. I mean I've often wondered, what with your job and everything. But…"

"A story for another time perhaps," suggests Kate gently, not wanting them to get derailed from their purpose. "Today is…"

* * *

She sits up straighter on the bench suddenly, turns to the side so that her knees are touching his, and takes a deep breath.

"Castle, I asked you here today because I have something important I need to tell you, something I couldn't risk saying at the Precinct."

He looks ashen all of sudden, his attention focused completely on her face, her eyes, that beautiful mouth.

"Kate, if this is…"

"Shhhh," she hushes him gently, laying a hand on his arm. "Please? Let me just get this out before I…"

She bites down on her lip; her teeth making the pale pink flesh turn a nasty, bloodless white, while her eyes zoom in and out of focus.

The not knowing is tormenting him.

"Kate, please? Just…"

* * *

"Castle, I'm pregnant," she blurts out, cutting off his plea, the statement as shocking as a slap to the face.

She winces at her own inelegance, braces herself for what's to come, for what she's not sure is about to come.

"S…so you mean you're not breaking up with me?" he asks, reeling forward over his knees as if she's just socked him in the gut, rubbing a hand over his mouth, his jaw.

"Breaking…? Castle, are you insane? I'm in love with you," she says, and the words fly out of her mouth like a song; free, natural, unhindered by overthinking or any fear as to how vulnerable this might make her, how at risk her heart now is.

The declaration comes out in the best way - given freely, generously, a plain, spoken truth.

"I…I'm sorry," says Castle, shaking his head as if he has water in his ears. "Could you…could you repeat that please?"

"Which part?" asks Kate, a tentative smile beginning to form on her face. Because he's still here, and he's not running yet.

"All of it."

"I love you and we're having a baby?" she says hesitantly, her smile now so warm and beautiful that it's choking him just to witness it.

"That's what I thought you said," he replies slowly, his breathing rapid and shallow, too speechless to add much more, just nodding at her like a bobblehead doll with a crazy grin on his face.

* * *

He watches Kate for a minute, her face lit up now this burdensome secret had been lifted, eyes sparkling with that inner glow he hopes he had something to do with putting back in there.

"You're so beautiful," he tells her, reaching for her hand. "You're so beautiful, and…and you love me, and we're having a baby. Oh my god, Kate, that is just _the_ best news _ever_."

"_Really?_" she asks breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating incredibly fast beneath her jacket. "Really? You mean that?"

The relief she feels is enormous, and it breaks over her like a cool wave.

Castle leans forward, cupping her cheeks in both his hands, and gives her the lightest Eskimo kiss, their noses brushing gently against one another as his warm breath ghosts over her face. Then he rests his forehead against hers and tells her again.

"Remember when I told you yesterday that my dreams come true…?"

"This? _This_ is one of your dreams?" asks Kate, her voice rising in surprise.

He leans back, nodding assuredly so that she can see the truth in his face, the massive smile he has plastered there.

"I didn't want to scare you off. But, _honestly?_ Having a baby with you, Kate, raising a family with you? Right up there on my wish list."

"What number?" she asks, eyes sparkling with that clever humor he loves, as she leans in to kiss him lightly on the cheek, her fingers curling around the soft velvet of his ear, everything about her spelling blessed relief.

"Right behind making you my wife. But we can fudge the timeline later. The kid'll never know," he tells her, as her breathless laughter tinkles in his ear, and he tugs her to him so that their lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, before he envelopes her in the biggest hug.

* * *

"You just made me the happiest, luckiest man alive, Kate Beckett."

"I was terrified to tell you," Kate admits, settling in against him, as he drapes an arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his side.

"Why? You know you can tell me anything. Always."

"Yeah, I see that now. But you have Alexis, and she's all grown up, left for college. I just didn't think you'd want to start again with the sleepless nights and dirty diapers and the…"

"…_Joy_, Kate, of having your tiny baby grasp your little finger. Or…or recognize the sound of your voice before they can even see clearly. Watch them take their first steps, say their first words. I did all of that alone the first time around. And I can think of no one I'd rather embark on this adventure with than you."

They stare at one another, so crazy in love, each mesmerized by the other. And then they begin to laugh, and their laughter gets louder and more hysterical until they're clutching at each other's jackets to stay upright on their little wooden bench, hiccupping and gasping for air.

* * *

"We're going to be parents. To an actual baby," says Kate, when she eventually gets her breath back, the words sounding completely alien to her ears.

"Guess we might have to tell Gates about us now. I don't want you passing our baby off as some other guy's."

"As if. She'll recognize the little chatterbox as yours straight away."

"I love you," says Castle, suddenly. "I know I haven't been saying that a lot lately, but I need you to know that it's true. I love you and I will love this baby, Kate."

"I know you will."

"How…I mean, we've been _shaking hands_ for…"

"I'm a few weeks late. I didn't even realize until yesterday when you suggested that laser gun might have affected your fertility. Your dramatics got me thinking. I guess the most pregnant I could be is around ten weeks. But my best guess is sometime around our five month anniversary."

"That night we…?"

"Yes. _That_ night, or soon after. The antibiotics and a few missed pills probably did it. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, tipping her chin towards him and brushing his lips softly over hers. "Never be sorry this happened, Kate. This is a gift," he whispers, making her shiver with delight.

The slide of his tongue across her lips and into her mouth has her humming, her mind spinning, and her heart dancing at the realization that she finally has all of this.

"We're having a baby. I'm having _your _baby," she whispers, touching his cheek, running her fingers down to his jaw, eyes caressing each line and crag on his face with fascination, as if committing every inch to memory.

"Kate Beckett is having my baby," Castle says, trying out the words for size, delighted by how novel it sounds.

"So, I guess we've got one banked in case you really _are_ infertile," she teases, kissing his jaw as she slides her hand in between the buttons of his shirt to rest her cool fingers against the warmth of his stomach.

"I think we might have to start trying for number two right away just to be sure."

"Whoa there, stud. Let me get my head around number one before you go making any big plans for more."

"Just teasing. How _are_ you feeling about all of this anyway?"

"Better, now you're on board with it. That was an unpleasant twelve hours."

"Kate, promise me something?"

"What's that?"

"Promise me that whatever is worrying you, no matter how big or how small, you'll talk to me, share it. I know you find that stuff hard, but…"

"I will. I promise. I am getting better at it."

"That you are," he concedes, with a little gracious tilt and bow of his head. "If this had happened a year ago you'd…you'd have left the city and never come back."

"Me and baby Castle, on the lam, sleeping under the stars and living off the land," she jokes, fingers stroking at warm, smooth skin.

"Eh, yeah, I think you like your fancy coats and boots a little too much for the simple life, Beckett. And don't think I didn't notice the way you made yourself right at home out in the Hamptons," he teases, receiving a gasp of fake outrage from Kate, before adding, "Which I loved, just for the record."

* * *

They sit quietly for a few moments, each lost in thought, and then Kate says, "Hey, I still have one pregnancy test kit left at home. Wanna come take it with me, daddy?"

"Can we?" asks Castle, more stupidly excited over her suggestion than he should be. But she's including him in this, right from the start, and it's way more than he could ever have hoped for from her.

When they finally stand, she leads him over to a small tree that's growing to one side of the Chapel entrance.

"There was a service here, requested by the rescue workers, on Sunday September 23rd. Afterwards, they planted this tree to replace the one that was lost when The Towers came down. That old sycamore was credited with saving St. Paul's that awful day. I've been back here a few times over the last decade, and this little tree just keeps getting bigger and stronger," says Kate, tenderly brushing her fingers over the rough, silvered bark, patting it a few times as the leaves shiver above them.

"Born out of tragedy?" suggests Castle, nodding.

"Indeed," agrees Kate, taking his arm and squeezing it tightly, her body pressed up against his side.

"Proves your theory," he adds, and Kate gives him a questioning look. "That even on the worst days there is a possibility for joy," he explains, using Kate's very own words.

"Did my favorite author just quote _me_ back to _me_?" asks Kate with delight, nudging him forward, back towards the side gate of the churchyard, and then out into the buzz of Vesey Street.

"Looking for another writer's credit, Detective?"

"You'll have to speak with my agent," she fires back.

And their laughter floats into the air, nothing but good memories and hopeful thoughts for the future filling Kate's head as she leaves a little piece of her past behind at St. Paul's, and welcomes what's to come.

_A/N: This seems like a natural conclusion. I could honestly write these guys all day long. But every story, like every good party and every great journey, has to end eventually. Thank you for walking with me on this one. Liv_


	6. Chapter 6 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 1

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination: The Epilogue_**

**_Fruition Part 1_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday, July 12th 2013, 2.14pm_

He's running so fast he almost skids right past the nurse's station in his haste to find the right room, his Italian leather soles really no match for the hospital's polished, rubber floor tiles.

"Can I help you, sir?" asks the middle-aged nurse sitting behind the desk, her face a mask of neutral composure, no hint of amusement or even interest in the frantic, out of breath sight in front of her – the man whose hair is sticking up fifty different ways, his shirt on inside out, collar turned the wrong way under his jacket.

No, she has seen it all before, one way or another.

"My…my wife," he pants, disappearing momentarily as he bends over, palms pressed against his thighs, fingers splayed wide, trying to catch his breath and stop the burning sensation that's filling his lungs and constricting the back of his throat.

"This wife have a name?" the nurse drawls, waiting for his head to reappear above the raised front edge of the desk, like an adult playing peek-a-boo with a small child.

"Kate," he pants. Then, "Sorry, I'm a little…" he adds, flapping his hand in front of his chest to indicate his racing heart. "It's Katherine. Katherine Houghton Castle. I got a message. She was brought in here about an hour ago. Our baby's coming," he tells her proudly, presenting with a big, face-splitting grin, unable to contain his excitement anymore.

"We're in labor," he adds proudly. "I mean _she_. _She's_ in labor," as the nurse consults the room allocation list.

And although his statement sounds inane, his delivery is evidently cute enough that it raises a smile, even from this particularly hard-bitten, seen-it-all nurse.

* * *

"Richard, darling? _Cooee!_ Darling, over here," yells his mother, waving wildly at him from a doorway halfway down the hall, drawing startled stares from several staff and visitors alike on account of her outlandish getup and unnaturally red hair.

He thanks the nurse without even looking at her. The woman stares after his retreating back, and then half-stands to lean over the desk surround to peer down the corridor at the theatrical vision that is Martha Rogers.

Martha is dressed in a sixties, paisley-print, purple, green and white, all-in-one pantsuit. It is _eye-poppingly_ garish, and Castle rubs at his eyes as he walks towards her, worrying that all of the running and a resultant lack of oxygen is affecting his ability to see straight. But when he opens them again, the same swirling mass of migraine-inducing color is swimming in front of them, bracelets jingling, thin arms reaching out to drag him into a fierce hug.

"Oh, darling, you made it," she says, as the strong scent of Chanel No. 5 envelops him, clouding his eyes with stinging tears.

"Where's Kate? Did I miss anything?" he asks, holding his mother at arms length, the frantic rhythm of his heart starting up again, though not from exertion this time.

"Relax, kiddo," she says, patting his chest, though still infuriatingly not answering his question.

"_Mother!_" he snaps. "Where's Kate?"

"Shhh. Just in here, and she's resting," she advises him, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder towards the half-open door. "So keep the noise down. She just drifted off to sleep, poor lamb, and the doctor says you're in for a long wait. So for goodness sake, Richard, let the girl sleep," she chides, knowing her son so very well, his natural inclination being to charge inside and crush Kate in the biggest hug, leaving the unfortunate woman gasping for air.

"Long wait? Why?" asks Castle, instantly worried by this piece of news.

"Well, she's a slender thing, for one. Those hips were really built for skinny jeans, darling, not childbearing. Rather like you know who," she grins, shimmying her head and shoulders from side-to-side in time with her own hips, her false eyelashes raised skywards and fluttering, while Castle tries with all his might to force any similarity between his mother and Kate's bodies out of his mind, lest it put him off sex with his wife forever.

"The intake nurse said she's fully effaced," Martha informs him proudly, and Castle winces a little at this news. But his mother charges on regardless. "Her waters broke over three hours ago. She's only two centimeters dilated after a good five hours of labor. But, this _is_ her first, remember? And first babies always dawdle, darling. Personally, I think they're in there leaving breadcrumbs for any siblings that come along afterwards. Explains why every other baby manages to find its way out on time."

"_Seriously?_" says Castle, staring at his insane, drama queen of a mother. "You actually _believe_ that? That might just be the craziest… You know what? You sound even more deranged than me right now. Mother, have you been drinking?" he asks, leaning in to smell her breath, wondering if that's what the strong scent of perfume is all about – a mask to cover up the booze fumes.

"_Richard!_ How could you say such a thing?" she admonishes him. "I've been looking after Kate, which is where _you_ should have been. What kept you anyway?"

"Paula, Gina, that pushy, new intern with the degree in Creative Writing from Brown who thinks she knows it all already - take your pick. They've ganged up on me, those…those women with their little coven. I only got your message when I got back to the loft and went to take a shower. Gina's new rule – '_no cell phones allowed in my meetings, Richard'_," he tells his mother, doing such a good impression of his second ex-wife that Martha starts to chuckle. "And she was pushing me so hard to get three more chapters of Hamptons Heat to her before the baby comes that I didn't even notice the go-bag wasn't by the front door when I got home. I just thought you and Kate had gone to meet Alexis for lunch like you were planning."

* * *

"Castle? Castle is that you?"

Kate's voice drifts out from the darkened interior of the hospital room, and Castle's eyes light up.

"Excuse me, mother. But I think I can hear my wife calling for me," he says, eyes crinkling with pure delight that he gets to see her and talk to her, rather than just sit and watch her sleep for now.

"Hey," he says softly, when he enters the room and sees Kate struggling to sit up in bed against a mountain of pillows.

Her large, though elegantly narrow bump is draped in the hospital's white sheet and pale green thermal blanket, the outline of her long legs clearly visible beneath the bedding.

From the back, all the way through her pregnancy, she looked just as tall and slim as she always did, like she wasn't even pregnant at all, until she turned side on that is. Her increased cleavage, and the large bump, that seemed to grow bigger daily over the last six weeks, were a source of enormous pride to Castle. And Kate constantly had to remind him to stop strutting around the Precinct like a bull in a field full of pregnant cows, proclaiming his manhood for all to see.

"You made it," she says, giving him a weak but valiant smile - his little trouper – her spirits lifting immediately at the sight of him. "I was getting worried."

He quickly crosses to the bed, helps her settle, then sits down carefully next to her hip so as not to jostle her. He gives her a questioning look before she nods slightly, granting him permission to lay his hand on her belly, not yet so uncomfortable that she doesn't want to be touched. She lets him stroke the firm, rounded curve, his hand following the elegant swell as he leans in to kiss her tenderly on the mouth.

"Nothing was going to keep me from this," he says, his fascination with her shape still undimmed all these months later, as he tucks an errant curl of hair behind her ear, and lets his eyes roam her beautiful, if slightly tired, face.

"Hey, peanut," he whispers, leaning down to address her cotton-clad bump. "You ready to come out and meet mommy?"

"And daddy," adds Kate, running her fingers through his hair as he leans into her, still whispering senseless words of fun and nonsense through the sheets and her gown like he's been doing since the very first day she told him that she was having his baby.

* * *

He loves her being pregnant. She's sexy and pliant, sleepy and loving, soft and curvaceous, clingy sometimes, even in public, and she loves to cuddle. They've spent plenty of time over the last few months lounging late in bed on the weekend, reading the newspapers and eating (he loves her appetite when she's pregnant too), instead of getting up at seven to go running on Saturday mornings like she used to when they first started dating.

When he left her curled up in bed this morning, a pillow propped under her bump to support it as she lay on her side, he had never felt so inclined to skip a meeting in his life. She was warm, and sleepy, and she smelled of home, after an uncomfortable night spent tossing and turning - a combination of heartburn and lower back pain keeping her from sleep. He had made her chamomile tea around 6am, rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, while carding his fingers through her hair until she finally drifted off to sleep.

When his alarm woke him at seven-thirty, he had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed beside her, watching her as she slept with his well-thumbed copies of '_Dude, You're Gonna Be A Dad'_ and '_The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding'_ to keep him company.

But Gina was insistent that he attend this planning meeting, before imminent new parenthood completely stole his attention away from his novel-under-construction for the next few weeks.

So he had left her reluctantly, with a kiss to her messy hair, and a loving caress of her sleep-warmed cheek. They hadn't even said goodbye to one another, so soundly was she sleeping by then.

* * *

"You weren't answering your phone. I thought maybe Paula had kidnapped you and was holding you hostage," Kate complains, reaching for his hand on top of the covers.

"Hey, dramatic theories are my purview, Detective. And I'm sorry you were worried. But I'm here now. How do you feel?"

"Scared. If I'm being completely honest. I mean your mother is…"

"My mother is a _nutcase_. Remind me to tell you her theory about why firstborn babies take so long to…um…_appear_."

"She has…she has a theory about that?" asks Kate, her brow knitting into a frown.

"Yeah, first I heard. But, you really don't want to hear it right now."

"She's been incredibly sweet, but she's not…"

"The ideal birthing partner, I know," Castle fills in for his diplomatic wife. "Or anything remotely resembling a doula."

"I was going to say '_you_', silly. She's not _you_," says Kate, reaching out to trace his mouth with the pad of her thumb.

"Have I ever told you just how much I love you?" he asks reverently, peppering her jaw and her neck with loud, wet, comical, sloppy kisses that tickle and make her squirm.

Kate giggles, attempting to fend him off, and then she winces suddenly, her hand flying to her belly as she sucks in a sharp jag of air.

"Is…is that another one? Are you having a contraction?" he asks, his hand flying to his mouth.

Kate nods, her eyes getting wider, looking a little frantic, while taking in short panting breaths, her mouth formed into a little 'o' shape as she gently puffs in and out, breathing through the pain.

The monitor by her bedside is spewing a constant readout of her contractions and the baby's heart rate from the transducer attached to her bump by the flexible band around her belly. And Castle, ever fascinated by gadgets and science stuff, lifts the tickertape up to examine the trace. The spike in the reading shows that she is indeed going through a contraction right now, though one look at her pained expression would have been all that was required to confirm it.

"Okay, so we're breathing, gently, steadily, just like they showed us in Lamaze class," he says, looking something like a gibbon as he joins in, and begins blowing out breaths along with her, his lips pushed out, cheeks hollowed.

"Castle, I know how to breathe," Kate snaps, as the pain subsides and she can finally speak again.

But he's busy looking at the second hand on his watch, timing how long that one took, and so he misses the irritated edge to her voice completely. She wishes she hadn't been so eager to share those birthing books with him now, because she's pretty sure he thinks he's more of an expert at giving birth than she is, despite the fact that she's the one carrying the baby, and she's the one who's been experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions for the last few weeks in preparation for the real thing.

He only mentioned once having been through this already with Meredith, and the look she have him shut him right up. He hasn't mentioned the day of Alexis' birth again since.

Looks like it's going to be a long day for both of them.

* * *

A knock on the doorjamb grabs their attention, and the flash of tension leaves the air when Lanie pops her head into the room. Suddenly Kate is all smiles again.

"Everybody doing okay in here?" she asks, beaming at her girlfriend. "Honey, you look far too put together to be in labor. Did you braid your hair like that when your waters broke, Katherine Beckett?"

"Eh, _Castle_," says Castle, correcting the M.E. "Katherine _Castle_."

He gets a glare for his trouble, and then a sassy, "I think you've done quite enough to my girl here already," she says, pointing to Kate's swollen belly. "Making her change her name…now that's just Neanderthal," she adds, shaking her head slowly. "How about you go find me some coffee and get Kate a cup of ice chips or somethin'? Let us get a little girl time before things speed up around here? _Hmm_?" she suggests none too subtly, pursing her lips at Castle, just daring him to refuse her request.

He looks over at Kate, who nods sympathetically at him. She'd really like to spend some time preparing quietly with her husband. But since Lanie took time off to come visit with her, she takes her friend's hand and settles back against the pillows, preparing to be entertained.

"I took a warm bath at home this morning to ease the pain," Kate explains. "Alexis braided my hair for me right after my contractions started," Castle hears her tell Lanie, after he gives her a kiss on the forehead, and heads for the door.

Their little family is about to get bigger, and he couldn't be more excited.

_A/N: So I seem to have this shameless, Pavlovian response to requests for epilogues…_

_The event of the actual birth seemed like it might be fun to write about. I hope I'm not wrong, since I've never actually given birth before! (Moms out there, please don't yell at me for inaccuracies. Let me get it all out and leave any yelling to the end. I need to concentrate to get my breathing right!) ;)_

_Anyway, we'll see how it goes. I plan to explain little bits and pieces of the pregnancy (oh and the wedding too) as I go. Actually, that came out sounding way more organized than it really is. I have no plan, is the truth, just a bunch of loopy, vaguely connected ideas as usual. Anyone still with me? Liv_


	7. Chapter 7 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 2

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_Fruition - Part 2_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday July 12th, 2.56pm_

"So, honey, how you holdin' up?" asks Lanie, sitting down in the pale green, pleather armchair next to Kate's bed.

"Honestly? Pretty terrified right now," confesses Kate, plucking at the hem of the sheet, running it back and forth underneath the edge of her thumbnail. "Just, promise you won't tell Castle?" she asks her friend, looking up suddenly when the thought occurs to her.

"Kate, he's your husband. He's here to support you, we all are. You should let him know how you're feeling if you…"

"Look. Okay. I told him I was scared the minute he walked through the door. I…I just don't want him to think that…that I am some kind of weak, pathetic, whiny… I mean, if Meredith could do this…?" she blurts out.

And that really is the crux of the matter.

"Seriously, Kate? You are _not_ gonna turn this into some kind of battle of the Castle wives, are you? Cause you already won that contest hands down. I mean look at you," she says, waving a hand down over Kate's propped-up form. "You're in _labor_…"

"Yes, but not _active_ labor," she corrects the M.E. "Though these contractions feel pretty active, let me tell you," she says, stroking her hand lightly over the hard mound of her belly.

"You are in _labor_," Lanie repeats with some determination, "and yet you're sitting there lookin' pretty as a damn picture, Kate, all groomed and sexily flushed in the face, and…"

"Sexy _anything_ is that _last_ thing this feels like, believe me. I waddled in here with my underwear soaked through because my waters broke just as I was getting out of the cab with Martha. Yeah, _nice_," says Kate with a wince, as she watches Lanie process _that_ thought. "My back is _aching_, my bump is huge, my skin feels like it's about to split open like an overripe tomato, and basically, the best part…? I'm waiting to push something the size of a bowling ball through an opening the size of a golf ball sometime later today..._if_ I'm lucky. First labors can go on and on for _hours_," stresses Kate, her gaze becoming unfocused as she starts to worry about something else. "Lanie, why did I ever think I could do this?" she asks, sounding distinctly panicky.

"Kate? Kate, look at me. You have to stop. You're getting yourself all worked up, sweetie. Stress isn't good for the baby, remember?"

"_Worked up_?" repeats Kate, crankily. "Oh, and don't get me started on how Castle's going to handle all of this. I had to get Alexis to _hide_ the video camera this morning. No way was I gonna have George Lucas out there sticking a lens in my face, or worse, down the business end for all the world to see. You might have to steal his cell phone out of his pocket later, cause when he finds out he'll just substitute that, and then post the whole damn thing on his website."

"I'll have a word, don't worry. There will be _no_ filming in this room until _after_ that baby gets here," Lanie reassures her.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, honey."

* * *

There's a quiet moment or two when neither of them say very much. They've spent a lot of time together lately, Lanie helping Kate to prepare for the baby's arrival by going on shopping trips with her or taking her out for lunch when the inside of the loft got too claustrophobic.

"Now that you've got that lot off your chest, aren't you the least bit excited?" she asks, feeling even her own excitement building.

A smile suddenly blooms on Kate's face, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud just as the rain stops falling.

"Yes," she says in a small, hopeful voice. "I…yes. I am _so_ excited. It's like the anticipation of every Christmas morning I ever had as a little girl all woven into one day. I want to meet this little person that we've created _so_ _badly_, Lanie," she confesses to her friend, her eyes shining at the thought of it.

"You're gonna be a great mom, Kate. I am so proud of you, honey," Lanies tells her, squeezing her hand. "Both of you. That baby is so lucky to have two parents as good-looking and talented as you two. It's quite disgusting, actually, just how amazing the pair of you are together."

Kate laughs. "Yeah, say that again in a few hours when I'm screaming at Castle to get the hell away from me as I beg the poor doctor for more pain relief. Won't look quite so superhuman then."

"But just look at you, all glowin' with health, and _married_, and… Kate, your mom would be so happy for you," says Lanie, voicing a thought Kate herself had just been having.

"I know she would. I just…I wish she could be here to see this, Lanie. To hold my hand, and tell me that the pain is all gonna be worth it in the end."

"But you already know that it is, Kate. Look at what you went through before you finally settled down with Castle. The hardest won things in life are usually the most worthwhile. And this little baby is no different. You just imagine your mom cheering you on through every contraction and every push, 'cause you know that's what she'd be doin' if she was here with you right now."

* * *

"Ah, ah! Ouch! Speaking of pain…" moans Kate, suddenly gripping Lanie's hand a little tighter.

"That another one?"

"Mmm-hmm," she hums, bracing herself for the wave of pain she knows is building.

"Want me to stay? Or I can go get Castle?"

"Stay," chokes out Kate, balling a handful of bedding up in her fist and squeezing it tightly, her teeth gritted against the firm tightening in her belly and the ache spreading from her lower back around to the front of her abdomen.

"I'm not gonna tell you to breathe, cause at this point I think you're way more of an expert than me. Just try to relax, honey, until it passes. Let your body do the work. The pain is nothing to be afraid of, Kate. Just go with it. Everything is progressing naturally," soothes Lanie, checking the monitor readout by her side just to make sure that the baby's heart rate is still strong.

* * *

There's a light tap on the door and then Castle's head pops into the room, just as Kate is regaining her focus.

"Hey, how's my girl doing? Did I miss anything?" he asks, handing Lanie the requested cup of coffee, a fruit smoothie in his other hand for Kate.

"She's just coming down from another one," the M.E. tells him, rubbing Kate's hand where it lies on top of the sheet as she take one last long breath and then blows it out.

Castle gives Kate the smoothie to sip on, and the cool liquid seems to help, her shoulders relax and her heart rate drops back to normal.

"Well, guys, I should really get back to the morgue for a few hours. Make sure Perlmutter hasn't been messin' with my instrument trays while I've been gone. But I'll drop by later to check on you, honey. And, _daddy_?" she warns Castle, turning to jab his chest with her pointer finger. "You better call me if anything big happens, you hear?"

"You're top of my list," he lies, getting a '_don't mess with me_' look in return. "I swear I will call you, Lanie," he repeats, holding up his hands in front of his chest in an '_Honest Injun'_ gesture.

"Mmm-hmm," hums the M.E. doubtfully, regarding him with narrowed eyes, before leaning over Kate to hug her goodbye. "You've got this, girlfriend," she whispers into her friend's ear, so that Castle can't hear her, and then she squeezes her shoulder before she heads for the door.

* * *

As soon as the feisty M.E. leaves the room, Castle is back by Kate's side, trying hard not to fuss.

"Where's your mom?" Kate asks, as he sits in the chair Lanie just vacated, and begins rummaging through her overnight bag.

"She…she, uh, is _flirting_ with this silver-haired doctor - a cardiologist, I believe - that we met in line down in the canteen."

Kate shakes her head, a smile plastered on her face.

"Your mom really is something," she says, watching Castle over the edge of the bed as he picks through the various items she carefully packed a couple of weeks ago.

"Rick? You looking for something?" she asks, as he absentmindedly places a thick pack of Kotex heavy flow pantiliners in his lap, clearly oblivious to anything other than the item he's trying to find.

"_Castle?_" she tries again, raising her voice to get his attention.

"The video camera. I could have sworn I put it in here," he explains, sounding mystified at its apparent disappearance, his voice a little muffled since he's still bending over to root around the depths of the bag. "I'll call Alexis and ask her to swing by the loft after class to pick it up," he says cheerfully, reaching into his jacket for his phone.

"Walk," says Kate suddenly, peeling the bedcovers back.

"Pardon me?"

"A walk. I think I'd like to take a walk. All the books say that it's supposed to help…to keep moving. That gravity…" Kate groans, gritting her teeth as she swings her legs gingerly over the side of the bed as she feels the effect of the softened ligaments around her pelvic bones. "Gravity can help move things along."

"Now? You want to walk _right now_?" he asks, a number of baby items balanced in his large hands as he stares at her blankly.

"Uh-huh. Hand me my robe," she tells Castle, waving her arm towards the white cotton waffle robe she has draped across the foot of the bed.

* * *

Castle mercifully does what she asks without further question, stuffing the items he removed from the go-bag back inside rather haphazardly. The head of Sophie The Giraffe is left poking out at an awkward angle when he's done, looking like it's surveying the room.

He scoots round to the other side of the bed to help Kate stand up, giving her both of his hands to lean on as she teeters on the edge of falling backwards. One more undignified huff and puff and she's upright. He helps her slip her robe onto each arm, and then they disconnect the monitor, so that she's free to roam about until things speed up. He carefully closes her robe for her and ties the belt just under her bustline, perfecting a neat bow; stepping back to tweak the loops and then admire his own handiwork.

"You good?" asks Castle, offering her his arm while she watches him with undisguised tenderness, overwhelmed all over again by just how meticulously this man cares for her.

"Good as you can be at this size," says Kate, her free hand resting protectively on top of her belly, sweeping down in a circle to reassure herself, the baby less active in the last few hours now that birth is imminent.

"Nonsense. You look amazing," he reassures her, kissing her temple. Then he sweeps her braid forward and drapes it over her shoulder. "Now, where to Mrs. Castle?"

Kate grins at him, her new moniker still a novelty even after three months. And when she looks down at her left hand, the simple white gold band they both wear is glinting back at her in the halo of illumination cast by the reading light fixture over the bed.

"Don't really care. Just…just need to get moving before my muscles turn to jello," she explains, trying to arch her back a little to ease the pressure on the base of her spine.

"Relax, Kate. You'll be back running the streets of Soho before you know it, love," he reassures her. "Looking sexy as hell while you push that fancy stroller ahead of you with peanut tucked up inside."

Because he knows that the inactivity of the last couple of months is starting to get to her a little, since she's so used to training hard and being active all of the time.

"How about a circuit of the maternity center for starters," suggests Kate, slipping her feet into a pair of comfortable slippers so that they can make their way out into the hall.

"Whatever my lady desires," replies Castle, bowing to his wife after he helps her out of the door and into the moderately busy corridor.

"You're insane, you know that," she blushes, covering her mouth to suppress a smile as two young nurses pass by and give them big grins when they see Castle's chivalrous theatrics.

"Hey, you knew that when you married me," he tells her, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "Too late to back out now."

_A/N: You guys are just great. I got so many lovely messages telling me how pleased you were to see an epilogue. I'm having fun with this, so I hope you don't mind it being a multi-part epilogue. Never could get the hang of being brief! :D Liv_


	8. Chapter 8 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 3

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_Fruition - Part 3_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday July 12th, 4.12pm_

They walk in a slow circuit around the Maternity Center in Downtown Hospital, stopping every few minutes to look out of the windows over lower Manhattan.

The view from one side of the building looks out towards South Street Seaport and the Brooklyn Bridge, where the dirty ribbon that is the East River sparkles and shimmers in the sun on this hot, summer's afternoon.

"It's mesmerizing," says Kate, letting her fingers drift from her stomach to the cool of the glass, getting distracted by the people and cars that look a whole lot smaller from fifteen floors up.

"_You're_ mesmerizing," replies Castle, nudging into her from behind as he slides his arms around her waist, still able to encircle her body completely despite her increased circumference.

He rocks them slowly from side-to-side as Kate lets her head drop back between his cheek and his shoulder, humming softly to herself, completely at peace and in the moment.

* * *

They chose this hospital for Kate's delivery because the individual suites were more comfortable, and they offered a personal approach to birthing that Kate was particularly attracted to. There was even the ability to build holistic medicine into your personal care plan if you wanted to. It also didn't help that her own OB/GYN had an office here and had highly recommended it to her.

They had visited the facility several times over the last few months for check-up appointments, ultrasounds, and prenatal diagnostic testing. Kate's pregnancy was being observed a little more closely than most because of the damage caused to her heart when she was shot, just to ensure that the increased demands placed on her body by carrying a baby to term wouldn't put her cardiac muscles under too much strain.

"You still haven't told me about the moment your waters broke," Castle suddenly whispers against her ear, making her squirm at the shiver his warm breath causes to race down her spine, every nerve in her body feeling over-sensitized right now.

"You noticed, huh?"

"Dish the dirt, Mrs. Castle," he says, nudging her butt gently with his hips. "I'll make a sharer out of you yet, Kate, if it's the last thing I do."

"Keep this up, and it might well be," she retorts, tracing her own fingers over and over the landscape of his knuckles where they rest at the top of her bump.

"Gush or a trickle?" he pushes.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" laughs Kate, turning her head slightly to look back at him.

"Hey, you've been freaking out over this one thing since day one, Kate. It's only fair that you share, since I _did_ talk you down off that particular ledge more than once. Remember when you had that nightmare that you were standing at the murder board in front of the boys, and there was that loud popping sound and the sudden rush of water, and then…"

"More of a dribble," Kate admits flatly, just to shut him up, instantly covering her face with her hands. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"Hey, I held your hair back when your morning sickness got so bad that you were vomiting three times before breakfast, remember? I rubbed olive oil on your belly for months. I've massaged your feet. You _peed_ yourself when we went to lunch with your dad and you couldn't stop laughing at my impersonation of Javier fawning over that transvestite, and then…_then_ I had to carry your wet underwear home in my pocket. Things are about to get a whole lot messier and a whole lot more intimate over the next few hours, so I suggest that you…"

"Hey, I can always relegate you to the cheering squad out in the hall, you know. Like dads of old, smoking a cigar and pacing. Alexis already offered to step in as my birth partner at a minute's notice."

"Why would she _do_ that? My own daughter?" he whines suddenly, as if that's the ultimate betrayal.

"Because she knows how insane her daddy can get, and she wants her little brother or sister to make it out in one piece, without his or her parents killing each other in the process."

"_Gah_," he says dismissively, putting his arms around Kate once more, and nuzzling into her neck. "We'll be fine. We always are."

* * *

"Walk some more?" he asks at length, offering her his arm.

"If you tell me how today's meeting went? I can feel another contraction coming on, and it's distra…ah…ah!"

Kate turns around and rests her forehead on Castle's shoulder, leaning into him, one arm crooked around the back of his neck to brace herself, using her other hand to rub slow, deliberate circles around and around her abdomen, trying to alleviate the pain.

Castle's long arms come in useful, as he lays the flat of his palm on her lower back and tries to distract from the pressure he knows she must be feeling right now by making regular circular sweeps of his own, and letting the heat from his hands warm her tight muscles through.

"That's it, Kate. Nice, slow breaths. Blow that tension away," he soothes.

She makes something that sounds like airplane noises as she dips her head lower, pressing the crown against the center of Castle's chest so that her body curls in on itself a little more. She rocks forwards and backwards on her feet, easing the ache in her joints with the continuous rocking motion, her lower belly cradled in her left arm.

Finally, the contraction subsides, and the pain almost instantly abates, only the heavy, downward pressure of the baby on her bladder making her uncomfortable.

* * *

"You okay to wander back? Or should I boost us a wheelchair? Or…or I could steal two, and we could race up and…"

"Eh. Me cop, you famous mystery novelist, remember? So, no racing wheelchairs up and down the hospital corridor, Castle. People have video on their phones these days," she reminds him. "You can't have forgotten the day that journalist got pictures of us making snow angels in Bryant Park…?"

"Yeah. You weren't happy. I remember that part."

"Well, they found out we were _dating_, started following us around, and that's how they got that shot of us going into Dr. Shapiro's office the day we had our first ultrasound scan. I really hated it when Page Six announced the pregnancy before I even got a chance to tell my dad."

"I know you did. I hated it too," says Castle, rubbing his hand down her back in sympathy.

"And what age are you, anyway?" asks Kate, the question obviously a rhetorical one. "Actually, don't answer that. I'm about to make you a father again for the second time. I like to pretend in my head that the fact you've done this once already, and that Alexis turned out to be such an amazing human being, means you're not the immature, man-child you sometimes pretend to be."

"Who's pretending?" asks Castle, dropping into a discarded wheelchair, spinning it round and round on the shiny floor until he gets off dizzy and can't walk in a straight line.

"If you get sick, I'm not holding your hair back," Kate tells him with a straight face, slowly making her way along the corridor under her own steam, while Castle has to use the wall to hold himself up.

* * *

When they reach the other side of the building they're confronted by the dazzling vision of Frank Gehry's 'New York' - the tallest residential building in America, soaring a whopping 870 feet into the air. Seventy-six floors of gleaming, polished, stainless steel ripple and snake their way up past the window as it stretches skyward.

"I wonder what the view is like from way up there?" says Castle, craning his neck in an attempt to see the penthouses at the very top of the tower.

"Spectacular, I guess," says Kate wistfully, her cheek pressed up against the glass.

"Yet, not as spectacular as the view I have right now," says Castle, quickly pulling out his phone to take a picture of his wife before she can turn away or cover her face with her hand to stop him.

Her head is tilted back in wonder, and the sharp sunlight bouncing off the magnificent steel building is illuminating her face and reflecting in her eyes. She looks ethereal, goddess-like.

"You're such a sap," she says, giving him a lovely smile anyway, so that he can record this moment. Because she knows how important these memories are to him.

They've shared a lot through this pregnancy. The whole process has definitely brought them closer. Not just in a physical sense, though there was that too. The sex, once Kate got into her second trimester and past the violent bouts of morning sickness, was amazing. Her energy levels soared, she actually liked her new, curvier shape in a way that surprised her, and Castle didn't seem to have any complaints either. He did plenty of 'research' on the best positions to accommodate her changing body, and then insisted, of course, that they practice every single one until they found a favorite. Kate had few complaints, and was a more than willing participant in the research phase of _that_ little project. And when they found their favorite position, well, she wore her husband out with a voracious appetite that lasted up until a couple of weeks ago, when she finally went on maternity leave from work, and her back got too painful for much more than lying on her side, surrounded by pillows while he stroked her for what seemed like hours on end.

Happy times.

* * *

"Kate, are you...are you _blushing_?" Castle suddenly asks, looking closely at her as he frames yet another photograph on his iPhone, catching the pink flush to her cheeks on the screen, the aroused look in her eyes.

"I'm…not. No reason," huffs Kate, clearly flustered, quickly turning away from him to begin walking back to her room.

"You were blushing, Katherine Castle. Don't lie to me. Are you having horny thoughts again?" he asks gleefully.

"Shut up," she snaps, shaking her head as the pink in her cheeks heats up to a scorching crimson.

"Oh! You _so_ were," says a delighted Castle, drawing in a fake shocked breath as he dodges round in front of her to get a better look at her face. "You know," he whispers, thankfully lowering his voice for once, "some of the moms in my maternity chat room were exchanging tips after a thread LucyLoo79 posted the other day," he says, raising a suggestive eyebrow at her.

"Tips?" says Kate, a little absentmindedly, as she stops to take a breather.

"_Uh-huh_. For when you're overdue or want to speed up labor. And Lucy…"

"Is she the podiatrist or the life-coach with the intimacy issues?" asks Kate, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Because while Castle had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the whole online pregnancy and birth community thing, Kate had watched his interactions from a distance, listening to stories about his new-found mom-friends when they were tucked up in bed of an afternoon, napping. He would sit with his laptop in front of him, I.M.'ing a bunch of pregnant women from all over the country, sending them hearty congratulations when they posted pictures of their newborns on the site, and soaking up every little piece of advice and every old wives tale that came his way.

Only Castle.

"Yeah, so Snookems suggested that a little nipple tweaking can speed up labor. And like, _everyone_ seemed to agree," he says enthusiastically, automatically looking down at her chest as if her breasts are magnetic all of a sudden and his eyes have morphed into a set of ball bearings.

Kate stops waddling to stare at him, her lips pursed, hands now on her hips, something of a comical sight in her robe and fluffy slippers, rather than the threatening persona she used to present to him when they first met and she was purely, Detective Kate Beckett, one of New York's Finest.

"You are _not_, I repeat, _not_ tweaking my nipples today, Richard Castle."

"You said 'today', Kate, so…"

She glares at him some more.

"So, I suppose sex is out of the question?" he asks weakly. "Because LexiP from Boonville, Indiana said that my semen contains special chemicals that can…"

Castle pales a little at the murderous look on her face.

"Okay, I'm guessing that's a no then too. Shutting up now," he squeaks, following her back towards their room.

* * *

They're not back very long, Kate now rocking back and forth on a blue exercise ball near the window to ease her discomfort, when the midwife pops her head around the door.

"How're y'all doin'?" she beams, coming into their suite.

The senior midwife, Bonny Trucco is her name, is wearing pale blue scrubs with a contrasting v-neck shirt which has tiny blue creatures, which Castle thinks might just be dancing hippos, scattered all over it.

"I like your shirt," he says, in a typical moment of over-sharing, pointing at her while Kate shoots him a concerned glance.

She vaguely wonders if he was sucking on the Entonox supply over by the bed while she was in the bathroom, doing her best to squat over the toilet without actually falling in.

The midwife ignores Castle's 'compliment', focusing all of her attention on Kate. She has tight, grey curls woven into something of a helmet around her head, as if she knitted her own hair, the writer thinks. And her thick forearms looks about as broad as Castle's. She's wearing a snazzy set of purple-framed reading glasses, which are currently dangling from a gold chain around her neck. A pair of off-white Crocs, teamed with thick sport socks, finishes off her ensemble.

"So, how's mom doing?" she asks, and Kate actually blushes, the sound of someone calling her mom still too strange to her ears to feel real yet.

Castle just stares at her with a stupid grin on his face, reading her mind, and thinking that she couldn't look any more adorable if she tried. She looks younger today somehow, if that's even possible. Her braid hangs heavily over her shoulder, the tiny errant curls that escape here and there softening her profile.

The midwife helps Kate up off the inflatable ball, and then guides her over to the bed. Once Kate is propped up, she tells her to drop her knees apart as she snaps on a pair of latex gloves and squirts a good amount of lubricant onto one set of gloved fingers.

"We're just going to do a little exam. See how things are progressing," she tells Castle, sweeping the curtain around the bed, right in front of his face, to obscure the scene from view. Old school style.

"Daddy, feel free to take a walk," the older woman instructs him, her voice a little muffled from behind the heavy modesty-curtain. Though there's no mistaking what she really means, which is '_get lost, buddy. You've done your worst already'_.

So this is how it's going to be, thinks Castle. Well, not on my watch.

The woman startles when Castle's head reappears from behind the curtain, and then he sits down in the chair beside Kate's bed and takes her hand.

"We're all walked out, actually," he tells the woman, staring her out when she arches a thinning, silver eyebrow at him.

He gets a grateful smile and a squeeze of the hand from Kate, making running the gauntlet with Nurse Ratched worth the risk.

Because the one instruction she gave him when they planned this whole day out, was, '_Whatever happens, Rick, please don't leave me_.'

And he intends to honor that promise no matter what.

_A/N: Multi-part epilogues are the new black, or so I keep telling myself. Judging by the reviews you all agree. Keep the stories and the comments coming. Your funny notes have me grinning all day long! Liv_


	9. Chapter 9 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 4

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_Fruition - Part 4_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday July 12th, 5.22pm_

The midwife quickly snaps off her gloves, modestly lowering Kate's gown over her knees once she does so, and then turns to drop them into the foot-operated hospital waste unit over by the small sink.

"Well, things are progressing nicely. You've reached four centimeters, honey, which is considered active labor," she informs the mom-to-be, nudging the faucet with her elbow to wash her hands. "If things continue to move along at this speed, you could be ready to push in just a few more hours."

Kate beams at Castle, so proud of herself that it tugs at his heart.

"Just keep doing whatever it is you've been doing, and yell out if you need anything," she tells Kate, giving Castle something of the cold shoulder for now. "I'll check back in a half hour. And we've paged Dr. Shapiro. She will be in to see you shortly."

* * *

"Active labor," whispers Kate excitedly, her cheeks flushed. She squeezes Castle's hand as soon as the midwife leaves the room.

"Mmm," he muses, nodding quietly to himself.

"Hey, daddy, what's up?" asks Kate, nudging his knee with her bare foot.

"She hates me," he grumbles, raising his head dejectedly from his deep inspection of the floor tile to look at his wife.

"She doesn't hate you," says Kate automatically, not entirely convinced that this is true when she takes a second to think about it. "She's just…I think maybe she just hates men in general. You know, the entire species," she finally concludes, as if this phrasing might somehow be more palatable.

"Yes, and I'm a man, ergo…" he says, throwing out his hands, palm up.

"Why do you even _care_ what she thinks?" asks Kate, capturing his nearest hand and laying it on her thigh, then keeping it there with her own on top.

"Because she's going to help deliver our baby, Kate, and negative energy around newborns is known to…"

"Ahhhhh. Oh god. Ow, ow, ow…ow," yells Kate suddenly, squirming from side-to-side on the bed.

Castle jumps to his feet, the volume of her yelling this time sending him into a bit of a tailspin.

"What can I do?"

"Help me…? Ouch, woo, wooooo," she groans, blowing out long breaths. "Help me get on my knees?"

So Castle helps her to crawl forward onto all fours on top of the bed, and then she rocks back and forth for the next couple of minutes until the pain spikes and then subsides, while he diligently rubs her back.

"That one seemed longer and a little more intense," he suggests, once Kate is re-situated at the top of the bed, pillows plumped up around her.

"Mmm-hmm. Looks like peanut might be getting a little impatient," says Kate, laying both hands flat on her tummy.

Castle goes to the small bathroom to wash his hands, and as he comes back into the room her hears Kate talking.

"Mommy hears you," she is telling her bump. "No need to yell."

When she looks up, Castle is smiling at her from across the room with the softest grin on his face, his eyes shining, the slight tilt to his head loudly hinting at how much he adores her.

"You know," he says, laying one of his own hands on top of her belly, "Peanut was fine when we didn't know what flavor we were getting. But our little boy or girl is gonna be here really soon, Kate, and…"

"I know. We have to make a decision," agrees Kate, wincing, dreading the return to this topic that they've been kicking around without a solution for the last eight or so months.

Kate feels that naming another human being is a really big deal, like it brands you for life, sets you up to be who you're going to be, and so she's having trouble settling on any one specific name.

"Did you pack the book?" asks Castle, reaching down for the overnight bag.

"Yes. It should be in there somewhere. I slid it down one side, before someone turned the whole thing inside out and jumbled everything up."

"Damn! The video camera," he says, smacking his own forehead, and Kate mentally kicks herself for inadvertently reminding him.

"Forget that. We have a baby to name. Where's the book?" she says quickly, trying to distract him.

He hands the well-thumbed Baby Names volume to her, and Kate opens it up at the pages they've marked with little colored stickies, flicking back to the chart at the front where they wrote down a shortlist for each sex.

"Okay, so, for a girl," Kate begins, trying to hide her beaming smile at the thought of holding her own little girl or boy in a few short hours, "we have Olivia, Grace, Lillian, Emily…"

"Nope," interrupts Castle, laying a hand on her knee to stop her.

"You don't like Emily?"

"No, Lillian. Lillian Castle? It just…"

He shakes his head, wrinkling his nose.

"Doesn't fit," agrees Kate, taking the pen he offers her and scoring it out.

"What about the boy's team? Remind me who we have in in the dugout?"

"You're still convinced we're having a boy, aren't you?" she says, shaking her head at him but grinning anyway.

"So is Espo," Castle tells her confidently. "Me 'n Javi are gonna take Ryan to the cleaners when junior is born," he tells her proudly, standing slightly to lean in for a kiss and an affectionate pat of her bump. "Daddy's little goldmine."

"Yeah, 'cause Javier is such an expert on fatherhood and all things maternity all of a sudden," says Kate doubtfully.

"I…I don't know. The way he looks at Lanie these days, at the wedding, and after, whenever you and I were around, I'd say that boy is about ready to settle down and start a family."

"Lanie get any say in this little scenario you've cooked up?" asks Kate, tapping her lip with the end of the pen.

"Just…feed me the boy names, woman, before we start arguing over something stupid, like Lanie and Esposito's love life."

"Oliver," says Kate, looking up at him. "You know I still kind of like that one."

"Ollie Castle?" he tries out, listening to see if it has that ring to it.

"Not quite Rick Castle, though, is it?" agrees Kate.

"Hey, you're looking at an original here, honey," he tells her proudly.

"Yeah, they sure broke the mold," Kate mutters to herself.

"Everything else is just a pale imitation," boasts Castle.

"Your own child will be a genetic copy, Rick. Quite possibly an improvement, if my genes have anything to do with it."

"Okay, missus smarty-pants. What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Nicholas, or Nick for short?"

But he shakes his head again. "Nah. Too Nikki Heat."

"Mmm. Good point. Noah?"

"I _know a_ Castle? Yeah, _so_ not happening. Poor kid'll get his head shoved in a urinal first day at school."

"Right, well, how about Nathan then?"

"Nathan Castle. Nate Castle. Bit…I don't know…?"

"Showy?" asks Kate, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah. We want manly, strong. Like Conan or Rebus or…"

"Christopher?" suggests Kate hopefully, because her husband's exotic choices just aren't doing it for her.

* * *

They seemed to have been battling over names since the day he proposed to her, craftily adding one caveat after she said yes; that she take his surname, at least in their personal life.

Kate was so thrilled that they were getting married, after the shock of finding out about the baby, that she had no hesitation in changing her name. Though they did agree that she would leave it as Beckett for work purposes, since introducing themselves as 'Detective and Mr. Castle' sounded like a cheesy, eighties cop show.

It had taken him until early January, until after they'd celebrated their first Christmas and New Years together, and were holed up at home one bitterly cold winter's day, frost on the ground dangerously hardening the leftover snow, to finally ask her.

They were lying on his sofa together, the warm, amber glow from the fire tracing dancing shadows over their faces as the winter sun set early. Kate's back was pressed against Castle's chest, and she was almost sleep, lazily drifting in and out, a blanket thrown over their legs, his thighs bracketing her own, a handful of her worn, NYPD sweatshirt balled up in his warm fist.

She had bent over in the en suite that morning to paint her toenails while sitting on the white leather stool Castle kept in the corner of his bathroom, and that's when the small, solid mass of her growing bump pressing against her pubic bone had really struck her for the first time; the solidity of it, the reality. She was fourteen weeks pregnant and just beginning to show, her loosest dress pants now just a fraction too tight.

When she had stood up and turned to look at herself side-on in the mirror, the fingers of one hand coasting over her newly swollen shape, she had looked up to find Castle leaning on the doorjamb, watching her with a look of unconcealed admiration on his face.

"You are so heart-stoppingly beautiful," he had told her, taking two quick strides to come over and stand behind her at the bathroom mirror, his hands joining hers over the top of the tiny mound, before he turned her around and pressed a hot, searching kiss to her eager mouth.

Her whole body was changing rapidly. Her breasts were already fuller, more sensitive, the areolae darker in color and slightly swollen. She got tired more easily, and morning sickness certainly hadn't been fun, but overall, she was enjoying being pregnant, and going through all of it with her partner. Castle certainly made sure they were having a whole lot of fun together, and in so many ways it felt as if he was doing this for the very first time.

So when he had laid his large hands on her stomach as they lay there on the sofa dozing, she had stirred a little from her nap.

* * *

"You okay?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Just thinking," he replied cryptically, kissing the top of her head.

"Sounds ominous?"

"Not…no. I just…"

And he had faltered, Kate could remember it so clearly, the man who was never at a loss for words was finally…at a loss for words.

"Hey, what is it?" Kate had asked him, rolling onto her side to look up at his face, a shiver of worry passing through her when she saw the dark clouds dimming his blue eyes.

"I don't want you to go," he had said, bluntly.

A lot of her things were already at his loft - clothes she'd left from the nights she'd stayed over, her laundry and his mixed in together, her socks sneaking their way into his drawers, his t-shirts in hers. The gifts they'd exchanged at Christmas had stayed at his place, because that's where they'd celebrated. In fact, she hadn't gone home until January 3rd, and even then, they'd only spent a few nights apart that week because Alexis was home from college and had a few more days before she had to go back to school, and Kate wanted to give them some time alone together.

In their own, inimitable way, Kate had replied, "Yeah, we already agreed. Staying here tonight. Dinner then a movie at home," she had reminded him, skimming his lips with her fingertips as she arched up to kiss his cheek, hoping to raise a smile.

"No," he shook his head, sitting up suddenly, and dislodging her from his chest.

"No movie?" Kate asked, feeling her heart start to flutter with concern.

He looked so agitated.

"No. You don't understand."

"Then calm down, and explain it to me," she had said gently, smoothing her hand down over his chest, tensing when she felt his heart racing beneath her palm.

"Rick, what is it? Just tell me? Is it the baby?"

"I…I don't want you to go…look I can't even call it '_home_' anymore. I don't want you to go back to your apartment, Kate. _Ever_. I want you to move in here with me. We're having a baby together. We're a family. This isn't…" he sighed, frustrated at his own lack of eloquence, running a hand through his hair, clearly expecting her to say no to his proposition or at least argue it out for a bit. "This isn't like with Royal. We can't ship a baby back and forth between two apartments like we did with…"

"Yes," she had said loudly, cutting him off in mid-flow.

"Wh…what did you say?"

"I…I said yes, Castle. _Yes_, I'll move in with you."

"Cause it does make sense, right?" he had asked her, still not seeing how eager she was for this too.

Because they were both more traditional than they'd ever like to admit. Two souls craving family for one reason or another; one dead mother and one unknown, black hole of a father between them. They both needed this.

"Yes. Yes, of course it makes sense, for all the reasons you just said. But the main reason, baby aside, is that I don't want us to live apart anymore either. I love waking up with you, Rick, and I don't like the feeling that I still have someplace else to go, some bolt hole to flee to in case this implodes. Because I don't believe that anymore. I don't believe that we're going to implode."

"Really?" he had grinned, the tension draining from his face.

"Yes," Kate had nodded. "I think we're going to continue to be amazing," she had told him, feeding his early words of certainty back to him, finally able to agree that they would make it, that they were solid enough.

He had swept her up in a massive hug, cradling her against his shoulder until his arms had started to cramp up. Kate tried to get him to settle back down into the position they were in before he started all this, but he was antsy again, nervous, his legs restless around her.

Finally he had said, "There's something else."

"Yes, I'll give notice on my place," Kate had sighed, patting his hand as she let her eyes drift closed.

But she felt him squirm out from underneath her, and suddenly she was unceremoniously laid back on the cushions, alone.

"Castle? What the…?" she called after him, watching as he skidded across the hardwood floor in his thick socks, running towards his office, yelling '_be right back'_.

* * *

Kate had closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up over her, feeling the loss of his body heat immediately, her hand back resting protectively over her little bump.

When she opened them again, it was because she felt as if someone was staring at her. She wasn't mistaken.

"Castle, how long have you…?" she had started to say, rather groggily, until she noticed that he was kneeling beside her on the floor.

"Wh…what are you doing down there?" she asked suspiciously.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett…"

Kate's sharp intake of breath echoed across the entire loft.

"Oh my god," she had whispered, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep her emotions in check, her heart suddenly hammering.

"…I have loved you almost from the moment I met you. You captivate and amaze me. You challenge me everyday to be a better man, and I can't imagine my life without you in it anymore. You are my strength and my inspiration."

His cheeks were trembling by the time he managed to whisper the words, "Marry me, Kate?"

The tears were streaming down her face and blurring her vision when he produced the black velvet ring box from behind his back. He placed a calming hand on her jiggling knee, before snapping it open to reveal the most exquisite, Tiffany Legacy diamond engagement ring.

A large, two-carat, cushion-cut diamond, surrounded by smaller, bead-set diamonds, set in a platinum band, winking up at her in the flickering glow from the fire. It was breathtaking, pure Edwardian glamour.

The man himself was more breathtaking still, that look of hopeful love, not afraid to risk his heart for this, to ask for what he wanted, stake his claim, certain enough for both of them.

"So…?" he had asked, removing the ring from its box with shaking fingers and holding it out towards her. "Will you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife, Kate?"

She had choked out a sob, and then began to nod, managing to hold out her left hand to him, so that he could slip the ring onto her finger while she watched, as if having an out-of-body experience.

"Yes," she had finally gasped. "Castle, yes. I would love to marry you," she had half-laughed, half-cried, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him senseless.

* * *

The wedding took place three months later, one sunny April Saturday, at the New York Public Library. Kate wore a simple duchess satin gown designed by Vera Wang that fell in a soft column of oyster colored silk from below her bustline all the way to the floor, almost concealing her neat little bump. She was just over six months pregnant when she walked down the aisle on her father's arm to meet her waiting soul mate. And Castle was without doubt the proudest, happiest man in the room.

Lanie was Kate's maid of honor, and Alexis, a beautiful bridesmaid, both of them stunning visions in warm, coral-colored gowns that drew gasps of admiration and many whispered comments when they processed towards the make-shift altar. Kevin and Javier had split the best man duties between them, since the writer hadn't wanted to spark off world war three at the Twelfth by doing the impossible, and choosing only one of them.

Castle had tears shining in his eyes when Jim Beckett had finally placed his daughter's hand in his, and then lifted her intricate veil. And when he had finally taken her in his arms, once they were pronounced man and wife, he had kissed Kate so tenderly, so gently yet passionately, that everyone in that room had held their breath until after they were done. Then the small gathering of family and friends had whistled and cheered the two grinning people in front of them who only had eyes for one another.

The honeymoon was spent at home, converting the guest room into a nursery. Though they did manage a long weekend out at the Hamptons house in early June, swimming in the pool, and lounging out on the deck when the sun got warm enough, going for slow walks along the beach, and then falling asleep in each others arms until a very active, kicking baby had woken them up with the sunrise, every morning, that whole trip long.

* * *

Today, Kate smiles to herself at the lovely memories, unconsciously twisting Castle's wedding ring round and around his finger.

"Is this…?" he laughs, looking down at where she's toying with the platinum band. "You trying to tell me something, love? Like you're gonna twist me round your little finger when it comes to naming little Ricky Jnr.?"

"What about Richard Castle The Second?" she suggests cheekily. "With Castle as a surname, our little lord ought to have a proper title."

But Castle shakes his head, and takes her hand.

"You know, there is another solution to this."

"Don't say Magic eight ball."

"As if?" he scoffs.

"Or flipping a coin. Or…or tarot cards or astrology or fortune cookies…or…"

"_Kate?_" he says, raising his voice to get her attention.

"Yes?"

"I…I was going to suggest that we _could_ always wait to meet our baby," he offers gently. "Decide what fits when we see just what he or she looks like? This little person we made," he whispers reverently, laying his hand over her swollen belly.

She stops laughing, and stares at her beautiful, childish, surprising, thoughtful husband. Her husband. And then she grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him towards her.

"I love you so much," Kate tells him, her eyes suddenly shining and full as she urgently presses her mouth against his. "That is _the_ perfect solution. Just perfect, Rick," she beams, putting the book away and smiling down at her bump. "Thank you."

"You know, daddy can be really smart when he puts his mind to it," she tells their unborn child.

"And I do believe mommy might be mocking me right now, so cover your ears, peanut," says Castle, leaning in once more to steal another kiss from his grinning wife.

_A/N: I'm beginning to worry that the epilogue is going to be longer than the original story, but I didn't want anyone who had favorited or followed Fertile Imagination to miss out. That's why I didn't post it separately. People asked to hear about the wedding – hence this chapter. My apologies to AnnaFIRTH, who thinks I'm going into too much detail – a common ailment of mine, I'm afraid. Anyway, things should start to move along in the next chapter. Liv_


	10. Chapter 10 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 5

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_Fruition - Part 5_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday July 12th, 9.47pm_

"You hungry?" Castle asks, when Kate opens her eyes after the five-minute catnap she managed to snatch between contractions.

They've been speeding up, the time between each shortening, the pain a little more intense with every one, though she's still managing to get by on true grit alone. His kickass wife.

"A little thirsty. And I packed a pear in the bag. Could you get that?"

"Water or juice?"

"Just water, please?"

"Another one?" he asks, watching her face, and then turning to look at the readout from the monitor.

"Mmm-hmm," Kate nods, screwing her face up, and curling forward over her bump. "Feels like I want to push," she moans, holding her breath and then letting it go in one burst.

"I'll get Nurse Ratched," he says, handing her a small bottle of water, before heading for the door. "Just relax, and keep breathing, Kate. Short, panting breaths like we practiced. You know it's still too early to push, honey."

"Don't call her that," groans Kate, panting. "I swear it's going to pop of my mouth out when she has to stick a needle in my ass or something, and then she'll take it out on me."

When he comes back into the room with the midwife, they look as if they might have made their peace. The woman is smiling and she lays a friendly hand on Kate's ankle, cooing quiet words of encouragement.

"How about we take another look down there, hon?" she asks, making no attempt to banish the writer this time.

Kate surrenders to the indignity of another uncomfortable internal exam, scooting down the bed and letting her knees fall apart before she's even asked; an old hand by now. She stares up at the ceiling, counting the acoustic tiles until it's all over, fingers tapping out a beat on the mattress.

"Seven centimeters," Bonny Trucco announces, clearly pleased with her progress.

But Kate groans, dropping her head back onto the pillows in frustration.

"But I want to push," she whines, looking at the midwife and then over at Castle. "_So badly_."

"Honey, it's too soon. I know you're feeling a lot of pressure down below, but pushing too early is bad for you and for the baby. Focus on breathing through that urge, just like I showed you. Short panting breaths, and dad, you can help with the counting. Won't be long now, Mrs. Castle," she says firmly, patting Kate's knee.

* * *

This time when she leaves the room, Kate's lip is trembling, and Castle can see that she's on the verge of tears.

"Oh Kate," he soothes, running his hand down over the back of her head and then kissing her damp temple tenderly. "You heard her. Not long now, babe. Then you can push like the superwoman I know you are."

"I hate this," she huffs, swiping angrily at her tears.

"Hate what, honey?"

"_This!_" she moans, slapping her hands down on the mattress either side of her thighs as if it should be patently obvious what she means and her husband is deliberately being an idiot. "Being cooped up in here, all the stupid rules, being so _fat_," she spits, and Castle has to hide a grin behind his hand.

"Kate, you're pregnant and gorgeous. Not fat."

"Unreliable witness," she grumbles. "Move to strike."

"Why? Because I love you? _Hmm_? Because I married you after I knocked you up, Detective," he teases, tugging on her gown, humoring a tiny ghost of a smile out of her. "Because you're having our baby, Kate?" he whispers, leaning down to peek at her even though her head is turned stubbornly towards the window.

"Don't. You'll make me laugh," she groans, covering her eyes with her hand.

"Is laughing on the banned list too?"

"_No_. But I might pee myself again," she moans, glaring at him when he starts to laugh. "Castle, it's not funny."

"Yes it is. And I'm going to remind you of this when we're old and grey and sitting out on the deck at the Hamptons house wearing giant, matching, incontinence panties."

Kate snorts. "Yeah, you'll get there before me, old man."

"That's more like it," he tells her, sitting back down in the chair beside her, offering her the cup of ice chips.

"Wanna help me do a crossword?" he suggests, trying to distract her and kill time.

"No."

"Cards then? We could play Poker?"

"_Poker?_ Are you kidding me?"

"Well, your poker face could be pretty interesting."

The glare he gets tells him the answer's no.

"Go Fish?"

"_Castle?_" she warns him with her voice alone this time.

"Okay, so no card games. How about your iPod, wanna to listen to some music? A little Rihanna to get you in the mood?"

"Uh…no. Could you…could you _read_ to me?" she asks, looking vaguely embarrassed to even be asking.

"Read? Sure. My pleasure. What are we…?"

"I packed _The Little Prince_," she blushes, dropping her head, and twirling the end of her braid. "My mom…she…"

Kate covers her face with both of her hands as the tears Castle's been expecting all day finally come.

"Hey, hey, hey, now," he says, settling next to her on the bed. "Kate? Kate, listen to me, honey?" he tells her, gently prizing her hands away from her face. "You're getting tired, sweetheart, and missing your mom…totally understandable. I can only imagine how much you want her here for this. If I could, Kate…you know I would do anything for you," he soothes, wrapping her up in a hug, rocking them both.

"I know," she sighs, her voice faint and laced with the frustration and exhaustion he knows she's feeling, a taint of grief to her tone too.

"Read to me?" she asks him again, pressing the thin, worn volume into his hands. "The part about the fox and the rose."

* * *

When Castle takes the book from her, it falls open at the very pages she wants him to read from; the spine loosened and the pages worked apart by her frequent forays back to this passage, which he take as a sign that they hold some meaning for Kate.

He looks up at her, gives her a hesitant smile. He feels slightly nervous to be reading something she and her mom shared, doesn't want to let her down. But then she prompts him again with a jab of her foot, and so clears his throat and begins to read.

"_The Little Prince went to look at the roses again." _

"_You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing at all yet," he told them. "No one has tamed you and you haven't tamed anyone. You're the way my fox was. He was just a fox like a hundred thousand others. But I've made him my friend, and now he's the only fox in all the world."_

"_And the roses were humbled."_

Castle puts on a different voice to read each part, but Kate stops him with a hand to his arm.

"No," she says, opening her eyes and shaking her head slowly. "No funny voices."

"_What?_ No voices? But Alexis _loved_ my voices," he says, trying to sound deeply offended, but pleased to see her distracted anyway.

"She was _five_, you're her daddy, she loved _everything_ you did, Rick. No voices," she repeats gently, closing her eyes again to listen to him. "Just you," she murmurs, and her request tugs at his heart.

So he picks up the book and continues reading in his own rich baritone.

* * *

"_You're lovely, but you're empty," he went on. One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three for butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose."_

As he reads aloud, Castle realizes that the words mean so much more to both of them than any veiled children's tale about a fox and a rose. They _have _killed for one another; he truly believes that she is extraordinary; he can be boastful at times and yet she still loves him; she inspires him to greatness; and he walks beside her despite the danger that her life can entail. They have each made the other into something more than they were when they met, and now they get the chance to do that together, by lavishing attention on their child.

He catches Kate's eye when he pauses, and they look at one another, the quiet exchange full of so much unspoken meaning, and then he drops his eyes back down to the illustrated page and continues to read.

* * *

"_And he went back to the fox." _

"_Good-bye," he said. _

"_Goodbye," said the fox. Here is my secret. It's quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."_

"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux," Kate repeats quietly to herself, using the original French.

"I always loved those lines. They're so truthful," she tells him. "My heart knew that I loved you before I did," she confesses, lifting his hand to her lips to brush a kiss to his knuckles, before pressing the cool metal of his wedding band against her cheek.

Castle stops to listen to her, overwhelmed by her honesty and this little insight she has just shared with him; something she's clearly thought about at some point in the past. She's his wife now, but no less of a surprise than the first day he met her.

* * *

"_It's the time you spend on your rose that makes your rose so important."_

"_It's the time I spent on my rose…," the little prince repeated, in order to remember._

"_People have forgotten this truth," the fox said. "But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose…"_

"Ahhhhh!" screamed Kate, as he neared the end of the page. "I think _our_ little rose might be coming sooner than we…ohhhhhh. Rick? _Please?_ The nurse?"

She looked frightened this time, her eyes wild as she clutched at the sheets, her face pale, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

He pressed the bedside call button, and then, unable to wait for a response, he rushed out into the hall, calling for Bonny Trucco or Dr. Shapiro.

* * *

"Hi, Kate," says Dr. Gabby Shapiro, when she strolls calmly and unhurriedly into the room, her stylish Armani suit and high-heeled pumps making her look as if she should be chairing a board meeting over on Wall Street, rather than preparing to help deliver a baby. "I hear things might be speeding up. You about ready to go?" she asks Kate, earning a very definite nod.

"Rick, good to see you again," she says, shaking Castle's hand. "How's our mom-to-be holding up?"

Castle grins at his pained and panicked wife, love shining out of his eyes.

"She has been a real trouper. Dr. Shapiro. Totally fantastic," he says, beaming at Kate, so proud of her.

"Great. Well, let's see if we can't get this show on the road," says the well-groomed doctor, taking the latex gloves the nurse by her elbow offers and pulling them on.

Gabby Shapiro's manner, her bearing, her whole persona exudes confidence and authority, and both Castle and Kate relax in her capable care.

"Well, I'm pleased to say that we're in transition," she announces eventually, after giving Kate a thorough examination. "You've reached eight centimeter's Kate. Good job. Your contractions are going to come faster now, probably closer together, and I'm afraid they're going to be a little more _demanding_," she says, a euphemism Kate instantly translates as '_more painful_'.

"But can I push? I really want to push, Gabby?" Kate tells her doctor, the strain of holding back showing on her face.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. Push too early, and you could tear your cervix, Kate, risk bleeding, even delay things further. Don't worry. Rick and I will count you through each contraction. I want you to give me little panting breaths, blow through the peak of the pain and down the other side. Think of it as a hill you're climbing, then visualize the coast to the bottom."

"How long, Doctor?" asks Castle. "How long until she's fully dilated?"

"At a guess, I'd say another half-hour to an hour, maybe. Now, I'll just go get changed, and let's see if we can't get this thing started. Bonny Trucco is off shift now, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me until this baby decides to make its grand entrance," she tells Kate confidently, patting her knee before she leaves the room.

Castle has to restrain himself from doing a little victory dance at this welcome piece of news.

_A/N: The reaction to this story continues to be overwhelming. Your patience as I feel my way through this is so much appreciated. Thank you for indulging me. I'm trying to portray the slow process, moments of boredom and exhaustion of giving birth to a first baby with this multi-chapter approach. And believe me I would never have called it an 'Epilogue' if I'd know that's how it would come out. Too late to change it now, so I'm going with it. I promise we'll meet baby Castle in the next chapter. Liv_

_Extract taken from 'The Little Prince' by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry._

_For the anon guest reviewer who hated Kate's middle name "Houghton" (as well as the bridesmaid dresses and the engagement ring) I'm afraid we're stuck with it, since it's the middle name AWM decided to give Kate Beckett. It also happens to be Katharine Hepburn's middle name FYI. Well, you didn't think I made that up did you?_


	11. Chapter 11 EPILOGUE: Fruition Part 6

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_Fruition - Part 6_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Friday July 12th, 10.55pm_

"_Okay!_" yells Dr. Gabby Shapiro energetically, clapping her gloved hands together. "We're at ten centimeters, people. Time for the hard work to start. I hope you both have some juice left in your tank," she tells the Castles. "You wanted to push, Kate? Show us what you've got. Because it's time to start pushing this baby out."

Castle flashes Kate an excited grin and squeezes her hand.

They've moved to the Labor and Delivery room, and he's up near the head of the bed at Kate's insistence, a green hospital gown over his clothes that does absolutely nothing for his skin tone. They've only been married for three months, and dating for less than a year before that, so she's no where near ready to surrender all of her dignity by letting him observe down at the business end while she pushes their baby out.

He's secretly hoping she'll change her mind.

Her birth plan is for an all-natural delivery if she can manage it. She has said no to drugs, passed on the Entonox, rejected the epidural, and it's past the point of no return now anyway. She's going to stare the pain down like she did as a four year old rejecting a nightlight. This will not get the better of Kate Beckett-Castle.

* * *

"On the next contraction, Kate, I want you to sit up for me, grab the back of your thighs, and then bear down with everything you've got. We'll count you through it. Hold on for as long as you can, and then I want you to blow out that breath and take a rest. You ready?" Gabby Shapiro asks, keeping an eye on the monitor trace.

Kate nods. Her heart is hammering. But she feels as if she's trained her whole life just to get to this point: delivering a child of her own.

When the contraction comes, it ripples through her body from her back to the front of her belly, the pain centering on her pubic bone. The pressure low down in her uterus and rectum is enormous, and she uses it to push against.

Castle gets his arm behind her back to help her lift her body forwards, and she tenses and applies as much force as she can to move the baby down the birth canal, inch by precious inch, bearing down hard.

She takes a deep breath just before the contraction hits, and then holds it, just like Gabby asked, forcing all of her energy towards the point her body needs it most.

"Good, good, and hold, hold, hold. That's great. Keep going, Kate, for five, four, three, two, and _relax_," says Gabby, patting her knee. "Good job, Kate. That NYPD fitness training's gonna stand you in good stead tonight. You are in excellent shape. Trust your body. You were made for this," she says, such an excellent coach and cheering squad rolled-into one.

Castle's so glad they chose this woman. Every cent they're paying is more than worth it. He can see Kate responding to her encouragement. She looks re-energized already, like she got her second wind; the adrenalin kick finally being able to push has given her adding to the effect.

He takes the cool, damp flannel and presses it to her forehead, then tucks her hair back behind her ear. She's a little out of breath from the last one, but she grabs his arm when he turns away to put the cloth down.

"My dad?" she asks, a hopeful look on her face.

"My mom called him a few hours ago, Kate. He's on his way back from the cabin with Bill now. Should be at the hospital any time."

"Good," she nods, giving him a faint smile. "That's good."

* * *

She pushes with the same level of effort another couple of times, resting back on the pillows after each one, exhausted, her breath coming in burning heaves. Her recovery time is getting longer, and Castle can see her tiring again. She's feeling nauseous, and has started to shake uncontrollably from the physical effort and the rapid flood of hormones and chemicals through her body.

He hates seeing her suffer like this, wishes he could take over for her, but knows he'd be a ridiculous, whiny, cry-baby, compared to her stoic, warrior-like strength.

He tries not to let her see that he's worried when she presses her hand against her scar after a particularly long contraction, her lungs burning, chest heaving. But she meets his eyes after he sneaks a worried glance at the heart monitor they have her wired up to, and he tries to ignore the paleness around her mouth, the blanched, bloodless look of her normally pink lips.

"I didn't almost kill myself in the gym and at physical therapy after I got shot to have my own baby knock me on my ass," she tells him, some of the feistiness he loves about her coming back into her eyes and her voice.

"Then let's kick some butt," says Castle, leaning in to kiss her on the side of the head. "You ready?"

She nods wordlessly, takes his hand and leans forward to let him get in behind her again, doing this as a team.

The monitor by the bed starts to beep, and both Kate and Castle's heads swivel simultaneously to stare at it.

"Okay. Looks like baby's heart rate has slowed a little, and mom, your cardio output was a little elevated during that last contraction. So I'm gonna give you a little oxygen just to make sure baby isn't in any distress, and to help you get that breathing under control," she tells a very worried looking Kate.

* * *

The mask stays on through one long push, but then Kate pulls it off, determined to get through this as quickly as possible now, the urgency renewed if there's any chance her baby is at risk.

"Okay, on three," yells tireless, cool-looking Dr. Shapiro, her diamond stud earrings sparkling under the special delivery room LED lighting.

Kate takes a deep breath, and then holds it, her face turning red from the effort she's putting in, the vein in the center of her forehead visible under the strain.

"Baby's head is crowning," announces the doctor, smiling encouragement at the parents-to-be. "Let's switch to nice, little panting breaths now, Kate. Give your body time to adjust. No pushing for now. We're gonna get junior out without a tear if it's the last thing I do," she promises, since this had been one of Kate's fears about natural childbirth when she first visited Dr. Shapiro at her office.

She dons the oxygen mask during this pause, glad of the break, trying to her her heart rate back under control with slow, even breaths.

The doctor encourages Kate to reach down between her legs and feel for the top of the baby's head to spur her on, let her see that she's nearly at the finish line. She's reluctant at first, but when she finally feels the warm, damp softness of baby hair, her face opens right up, a look of amazed surprise dawning on it, and she turns to Castle and nods for him to take a look.

"That's our baby," she says, tears springing to her eyes.

Castle jumps at the chance to see what Kate just felt, to get an early glimpse of their baby's head, and so he peers over Dr. Shapiro's shoulder, squinting in the brightness of the surgical lighting.

"I can see dark hair," he squeals, pressing his fingers over his mouth as he looks up at Kate, who currently has tears running down her cheeks.

But he doesn't linger, knows Kate wanted him to share this, but that she'd rather he was up at her end, supporting and encouraging her, than down looking over the doctor's shoulder for the rest of proceedings. For once he's determined to do what she asked!

"Your mom would be so proud of you," he whispers into her ear when he resumes his position by her side. "_I'm_ so proud of you, Kate."

She nods, smiling through the tears, and then gears up for the next onslaught, sucking on the oxygen supply to fill her lungs.

* * *

She feels her body behaving in ways she never thought possible over the next couple of pushes. The baby's head is rocking against her pubic bone, on the verge of appearing completely, and it's a tricky balance to get the right amount of pushing and panting to let her body stretch to accommodate the baby's head without causing a tear or damaging any of her muscles, and without letting the baby slip back in and lose the momentum they've gained. She feels an intense burning and stretching, and has to grit her teeth to stop from crying out with the pain.

"Okay. On the next one, I want you to bear down with everything you've got," says Gabby. "Really give it your all, Kate. You're so close. Once we deliver the head, you're gonna rest for me while I clear baby's airway, and then we can deliver those shoulders and that neat little body we've seen on screen. You good with that?" she asks, checking Kate's comprehension levels, since she can see how exhausted the woman now is.

"I love you," whispers Castle into her ear, kissing her damp forehead, and clutching at her hand. "Squeeze as hard as you need to," he tells her, when she wraps her fingers tightly around his. "That's what I'm here for."

"I thought you were here for the cute nurses," Kate quips, and he stares at her, amazed she can find the energy to joke about anything right now, her eyes a little hazy, a drunk looking grin on her face despite the complete lack of drugs.

"You…uh…god, you're amazing," he tells her. "Isn't she amazing?" he asks the doctor, dragging her into this little scene too, since she can hear every word they share and has probably seen it all before anyway.

"How about we help her to be even more amazing? Kate, it's time. Get ready for you're big moment, Mrs. Castle. Deep breath in and then push, Kate, long and hard," she instructs, her fingers playing gently at Kate's opening ready to help the baby out.

* * *

The baby's head comes out with something of a quiet pop, accompanied by a gush of amniotic fluid, which leaks out onto the absorbent pad beneath her bottom. Castle leaves Kate's side briefly to dart down for another look, while Dr. Shapiro uses a bulb syringe to gently suction mucus out of the baby's nose and mouth. Then they quickly focus on the next stage of delivery.

Baby's head had turned to the side as the shoulders entered Kate's pelvis.

"With the next contraction, I want you to push again for the shoulders this time, Kate," she instructs. "Nearly over. You're doing great."

The doctor angles the baby's head towards the floor and as Kate bears down, the top shoulder appears. Once the doctor angles the baby's head towards the ceiling the second shoulder slips free of her pelvis, and Kate feels an immense flood of physical and mental relief when the baby slithers out between her legs.

The room is silent for a few tense seconds, until Dr. Shapiro lifts the newborn baby up, holding it in the air for Kate to see.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Castle. Meet your baby daughter," she says, placing the squirming baby on Kate's belly. "You have a beautiful little girl."

* * *

She's dark purple in color and covered in blood smears and a creamy layer of vernix, her dark hair plastered to her little head, but both Kate and Castle think they've never seen anything quite so beautiful.

The baby mewls a little, squirming from side-to-side, her little fists punching at the air like a prizefighter, long legs drawn up towards her tummy.

"Daddy, would you like to do the honors?" asks Gabby Shapiro, offering Castle the chance to cut the umbilical cord. "11.57pm," she tells the nurse for her to record the time of the baby's birth.

Kate holds her breath while Castle cuts where the doctor indicates, and then they both beam at their little girl, ridiculous, besotted grins on their faces as she starts to cough and cry a little, before shocking her own eyes wide open with the cutest little sneeze, blinking and squinting in the bright, delivery room lights, her fingers splayed wide.

"Oh god," whispers Castle, stroking her tiny foot, "she's…Kate, she's just perfect. Thank you so much," he tells her reverently, kissing her right next to her ear. "Thank you," he whispers again, rubbing his nose against her cheek.

Kate looks up at him, exhausted, but so full of love for this man who has just given her everything: his friendship, his love, his faith, his family, and now this - their very own child.

"No, Castle, thank you," she says, stroking the baby's cheek so lightly with the tip of her finger, watching her little mouth pucker up as she turns her head towards the sound of Kate's voice, rooting around, a flash of her tiny pink tongue, until the nurse comes over to take the baby over to the warmer to be checked out and cleaned up a little, while Kate prepares to deliver the placenta.

* * *

"_Mother?_" says Castle, pacing out in the hall on his cell phone, his whole body trembling in shock. "It's me. Alexis there too? Yes, put me on speaker. A baby girl," he cries out, his voice shaking with emotion as the sound of two screaming female voices echo through the phone. "Yes, another daughter. Pumpkin, you have a little sister. Kate's fine. Yes. She was amazing. Baby's doing fine too. Just being weighed and checked out right now. No, I'm good," he tells them, his voice wobbling as the tears start to flow. "Great. Thank you. Yes, I'll tell her. Love you too. We'll see you soon," he chokes out, before hanging up and frantically wiping his eyes.

Castle turns to go back in to Kate, and then it hits him like a train. He suddenly realizes that he has a wife and two daughters. _A wife and two daughters_. He's a husband and a father of two. The thought is so overwhelming he thinks his heart might just burst. So he paces back down the hall a little way, and gets out his phone once more, needing just a little time, but also needing to share.

"Jim? It's Rick. You have a beautiful baby granddaughter," he tells his father-in-law, grinning at the man's joyful reaction to the good news. "Not five minutes ago," he reassures him. "Katie's doing just fine. She was a real star, Jim, quite extraordinary. You should be so proud. How far out are you? Great. She's dying for you to meet the baby. We'll see you in the next hour. Drive safe."

Family. It's all that matters, Castle thinks, as he hangs up the call, and he truly believes that he has some of the best there is.

_A/N: Well, I was in need of a lie down after that, let me tell you! I almost had tears in my eyes as the baby was born. (Think I might be overdoing the visualization a little!) :D Hope you enjoyed that. Probably one more chapter to go. Hope everyone's having a great weekend. Liv_


	12. Chapter 12 EPILOGUE: New Beginnings

_Disclaimer: I'm asking Santa for the rights to Castle this Christmas. But until then…it's still a no!_

* * *

**_Fertile Imagination Epilogue _**

**_New Beginnings_**

_Eight months and one week later…_

_Saturday July 13th, 12.12am_

_A/N: This chapter is for Trinityblade. Happy Birthday! Sometimes dreams do come true._

By the time Castle returns to their suite, after making calls to Kate's dad, his mom, Lanie and the boys, his ear is ringing from all the excited screaming. Kate has returned from the delivery room, and she's sitting up in bed wearing her own fresh nightdress, cradling their baby girl in the crook of her arm. A nurse is quietly filling out paperwork at the table in the corner, keeping watch over the new mom and baby.

Kate's eyes are downcast, watching her sleeping newborn, long, spidery shadows cast over her flushed cheeks by her eyelashes, lit only by the warm halo cast by the reading light above.

* * *

"Hey," he whispers, creeping up to the bed, careful not to disturb the beautiful scene. "How're my girls?" he asks, the tightness in his chest and the lump in his throat far from abating.

"We're good," whispers Kate, smiling broadly at him, stroking the fine, dark hair just behind her baby's ear. "How's daddy holding up?" she asks, reaching out to wrap her fingers around the back of his neck and draw him to her for a soft, lingering kiss.

"Kate, you did all the work. You were amazing. And this little one didn't make too much of a fuss, either. She was pretty cooperative."

"For seven pounds eight ounces," says Kate, clearly pleased with herself. "She's a good weight," she declares, as she looks back down at her sleeping daughter, feeling for a tiny bare foot underneath the blanket.

"Really? Seven pounds eight? And you delivered her without any drugs? Damn, my wife is kickass," he declares proudly.

At the sound of his voice, the baby opens her eyes, blinking rapidly in the lamplight, squirming her head towards the source of the familiar noise.

"Did you hear daddy cursing, Peanut?" whispers Kate, gently stroking her cheek so that she doesn't startle her, making soft, soothing noises all the while.

Castle sits down in the space next to Kate on the edge of the bed, leaning in so that they can look at their daughter together.

* * *

"I think it's time Peanut got a proper name. Don't you?" he asks Kate, slipping his arm around her shoulder.

Kate continues to stare at their little girl, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, she doesn't really look like a Peanut anymore. She's…"

Kate seems at a loss for words for a moment. She fell in love with this tiny scrap of humanity the moment she first felt her move inside her, and now that she can hold her, touch her, feel the warmth of her little body against her chest...

"I have…eh…I have a suggestion," she says hesitantly, glancing up at her husband.

"For a name?" asks Castle, excited by the look in Kate's eyes.

"Yes. Yes, but it's…it wasn't on our list. I'm not sure why. Because it seems pretty perfect now that I look at her."

"Are you planning a drum roll to go with that build up, Kate?" teases Castle, watching her justify her suggestion before it's even out of her mouth.

"It still needs two votes," Kate tells him, going back to their original rules, "just like we agreed."

"Okay. Agreed. Two votes. And the name?"

"When I met you, I was almost out of this…because of my mom, failing to find justice for her. But you…you busted your way into my life, Castle, and…"

"Kate, honey," says Castle, kissing her temple and then rubbing his cheek against hers, breathing her in. "Just tell me the name," he whispers, grinning into her hair. "If you think it suits our little girl, then I'm sure…"

"_Hope_," says Kate quickly, to a stunned silence from Castle. "I…I just think…that she looks like a '_Hope_'. You gave me that back in my life, Rick. That was your gift to me after we met. And…and _now_ you have given me this…this _beautiful_, even more precious gift. _A child_. _Our baby_. What's more hopeful than that?"

"Hope?" repeats Castle, running his hand lightly over the white blanket the baby was wrapped in by the nurses after they checked her Apgar score and weighed her. "Hope."

"Do you…I mean, if you hate it, Rick, obviously…" flounders Kate, trying to hide her disappointment, because she thinks the name is perfect for this little human being they have created together.

"_No_. No, Kate, I don't hate it. Actually, I…I love it. It…it's perfect. And it's _you_ – simple, profound, optimistic, despite everything you've seen in life, and now it's _her_ – our little girl - Hope Johanna Castle."

Kate looks up at him suddenly, her eyebrows raised in a look of surprise.

He nods back at her. "Hope Johanna Castle. Your mom would have been so captivated by her, Kate," he says, stroking the back of her hand where it lies on top of the baby's blanket. "I mean, just look at her, who wouldn't be? And she'd be so proud of you. So, it's only right that we remind our little girl where she came from; what a line of strong women she's descended from."

"My dad…Rick, my dad will be so pleased. Thank you," she whispers, tugging him closer by his sleeve until the three of them are curled up together on the hospital bed, quietly watching their baby as she watches them right back; large intense blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, pale, milky skin under a dark head of hair.

* * *

A light tap on the door is followed by a soft exclamation of, "Well, if this isn't a picture for the family album."

"Martha. And Alexis," says Kate, brushing away a tear. "How lovely."

The two women tiptoe into the room, big, beaming smiles on their faces.

"Alexis, come meet your little sister. Hope, this is Alexis," sing songs Kate, handing the baby to Castle as they exchange a private, meaningful glance.

"_Oh my!"_ exclaims Martha, peering over Alexis' shoulder as she gingerly takes the baby from her dad's arms.

The redhead sits down in the armchair beside Kate's bed and begins talking quietly to her brand new sibling.

"Hi, baby Hope," she coos, rocking the infant from side-to-side. "I'm your big sister," she tells her, before suddenly looking up at her dad, whose hand is resting on her shoulder, beaming at him like she's a little kid herself again.

"I have a sister," she repeats to her dad, with something like wonder in her voice.

And Kate sees, for the first time since they announced her pregnancy to the family, that all the concern she felt at the time, worrying that Alexis would think she was being pushed out of her long-held place in her father's heart, was totally unwarranted. What they've given her is a bigger family of her own to be at the center of, a new place from which to grow, and learn about sharing and loving and teaching. And Kate is so grateful that they could do this for the girl; understanding from her own personal experience just how lonely it can be to live as an only child, and how it can affect your adult relationships later in life too.

"Kate, thank you," says Alexis, standing up to kiss her stepmother on the cheek. "She's perfect," the girl tells her, sinking back down into the chair, unwilling to let the baby go.

"Mother, you're being unnaturally quiet," says Castle, turning to look for Martha.

He finds her standing near the foot of the bed, one hand over her mouth, the other on her hip, watching the three adults interact with the baby and one-another.

"Oh, darling," she says, pressing a bejeweled hand to her chest, "I…I just couldn't be more proud. I do believe you have rendered me speechless for once. All of you. Such a beautiful little family," she says, smiling at Kate, and then at her two granddaughters.

Castle leaves Alexis' side to give his overwhelmed mother a hug.

"You're part of this family too," he reminds her. "And I hope you're ready for some diaper duty and babysitting," he teases, trying to include her in their joy and excitement, because he can see that she's feeling a little left out.

"Darling, little Hope is just lucky diapers have improved a lot since I had you. I'm sure I can manage those sticky little tabs. But, Kate, he was like a human pin-cushion for the first few weeks, let me tell you," she tells her horrified daughter-in-law. "The number of times I jabbed this poor little chap with a safety pin…ugh…simply doesn't bare thinking about," she adds, patting her son on the chest and then kissing him on the cheek. "But you turned out okay, kiddo. And now look at you; a husband and father. I couldn't be more proud," she says, as another tap on the door grabs their attention.

* * *

Jim Beckett's silver head of hair crowns a slightly flushed face; evidence that the man has been running since his feet hit the asphalt in front of Downtown Hospital, where his old buddy, Bill, dropped him off not five minutes ago.

"Did I get the right room?" he asks, grinning at his daughter from the doorway.

"_Dad!_" exclaims Kate, peering past Castle to get a good look at her father.

He's wearing a dark green, waxed, fishing vest over an old plaid shirt, and his cargo pants and chunky boots add to the outdoorsman effect; a far cry from the lawyerly role he plays on weekdays; leading class-action lawsuits against drug companies and other corporate miscreants.

"Jim, you made it," says Castle, warmly shaking his father-in-law by the hand.

"Wouldn't have missed this for the world, son, "says Jim, slapping Castle on the back. "Congratulations, by the way. I'm pretty sure I forgot to say that on the phone. You kind of caught me by surprise. Jo took a good few hours longer to deliver this one," he tells Castle, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the cheek. "Should have known she'd be trouble from the off," he jokes, running his hand down over the back of her head, and then tugging affectionately on her braid.

"Oh, she's trouble alright," agrees Castle, beaming at his wife.

"I _can_ hear you two, you know," complains Kate, turning away from the men to address her stepdaughter. "Alexis, thank goodness your gran and I have you and Hope to even things out for the girls."

"_Hope_?" says her dad, suddenly looking down at the tiny blanket-wrapped bundle lying in Alexis' arms, part of a small pale head and a few wisps of dark hair peeking out from within the mound of cotton.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet your granddaughter, Hope Johanna," says Kate proudly, as Alexis takes her cue, and stands to offer the baby to her Grandpa Jim.

"Hope Johanna?" he repeats with wonder, his eyes now glued to the baby's face as he gently rocks her in his arms. "Oh, Katie, she's perfect," coos Jim, as Alexis and Martha diplomatically leave the room to give them a little space.

Castle is sitting next to Kate on the bed again, holding her hand while they both watch her dad bond with his first grandchild.

"Your mom," he chokes, shaking his head, adjusting the tiny bundle in his arms, "she'd be so proud of you, Katie. And so pleased for you both. You've done a great job with each other. Time to continue on with this little one," he tells them, gazing down with a peaceful, love-struck look on his face.

Kate nudges Castle in the side, and leans against him. "Thank you," she whispers, kissing her husband's shoulder.

* * *

Before he can ask her what for, there's another tap on the door, and a nurse pokes her head in to tell them there are more visitors to see them, if they're not too exhausted.

Kate is still buzzing from the aftereffects of the adrenalin brought on by the birth, and Castle looks like he's existing on excitement alone. So they tell the nurse to send their friends in, with a caveat to warn them to be quiet, since the baby is sleeping peacefully for now in her grandpa's arms.

Lanie's grinning face is followed into the room by an excited looking Jenny and Kevin Ryan. Esposito lags at the back, giving the M.E. furtive glances when he thinks no one is looking.

"Oh, honey," exclaims Lanie, heading straight towards the baby, "is this your little muffin?"

"This is Hope," announces Jim Beckett, reluctantly placing the baby in Lanie's eager arms.

"Hope? Oh Kate, what a gorgeous name. Now, I know _he_ didn't think that one up," Lanie sasses Castle. "He's only a writer after all."

They all laugh, except for Castle, who graciously informs them that the baby's name was indeed Kate's idea.

"But you both get equal credit for producing this beauty," says Jenny generously, nudging her husband to join in the congratulations.

"Irish, here's feeling a little broody," murmurs Esposito, shoving his partner. "Hasn't stopped talking babies since we got here. Even had his little Irish snout pressed up against the glass of the nursery, 'til a nurse got suspicious and I had to reassure her that we're cops. Didn't I, bro?"

* * *

The congratulations continue for the next few minutes, and baby Hope is passed around each of her 'uncles', once they manage to prize her away from Lanie.

When Kate manages a moment alone with her friend to describe her birthing experience in detail, she mischievously adds, "It'll be your turn soon."

Lanie snorts at Kate.

"Get real girl! No way I'm letting _that man_ impregnate _me_," she scoffs, glancing over at Esposito, her big doe eyes softening the second they land on him.

The telltale blush rising up her neck to warm her cheeks gives her away completely, as she stares over at the detective now cradling her friend's baby in his arms, a goofy grin on his face as he burbles nonsense words to the newborn.

"Yeah, that's what _I_ thought not so long ago," Kate tells her sagely, glancing at her own partner-turned-husband. "But life has a way of sneaking up on you,Lanie, and dropping surprises in your lap," Kate warns her.

"Didn't do you any harm, sweetie. I don't think I've ever seen you looking so happy," Lanie concedes, patting her on the hand.

Kate yawns loudly, just as the baby starts to squawk, wriggling in Javier's arms as he looks around in alarm for Castle.

"Bro, come get your baby. I didn't do nothing," he protests, as Castle calmly lifts the baby out of his arms, and carries her over to her mom, with one large hand behind her head, and then other one bracing her back and bottom, dwarfing her tiny body.

"Okay, folks," says the nurse, reappearing with amazing efficiency. "Time mom and baby get a little rest. You're all welcome to come back tomorrow."

* * *

Once the round of goodbyes and repeat congratulations are over, Kate and Castle are finally left alone together with their newborn daughter.

"You okay to feed her by yourself?" asks the nurse. "Or do you want some help with that?"

Kate looks down hesitantly at Hope, who has managed to work one arm free of her blanket, and is determinedly sticking her tongue out now, shifting her head from side-to-side, desperate to get at her mother's milk.

"I think I've got it from here," Kate tells her, eager for a little privacy as she learns to feed her baby, not wanting any witnesses to her early failings as a mother other than Castle. "I'll call if I need anything."

She unbuttons her nightdress and lowers it off one shoulder, while Castle brings her a special nursing pillow. One gentle stroke to Hope's cheek and she turns her head at just the right angle, rooting around for Kate's nipple and then latching on like a pro.

"You _have_ got this," Castle tells her, impressed by how instantly maternal Kate is being; no hint of uncertainty or nerves evident in the way she handles their newborn, so unlike the tough cookie cop he met five year ago.

"I'm faking it. But thanks anyway," she tells her husband with a grin, as they both watch their little girl suckle greedily.

"Good eater. That's always a good sign," nods Castle, toying with the baby's miniscule, bare toes.

"Let's pray she's a good sleeper too. Hey, did you see Lanie watching Javi when he was holding her?"

"Told you. He is _so_ ready to start a family with her."

"Hmm. I think Lanie might need a gentle nudge."

"Nah," says Castle, shaking his head. "If we leave them to babysit this little beauty one time, I'll bet she's pregnant before Thanksgiving."

"I'll take that bet," says Kate confidently. "Twenty says it's 2014 before they manage it."

"Mrs. Castle you are on. Prepare to lose your shirt," he boasts to his wife.

"Yeah, I did that already, and look where it got me," she grins, laughing at Castle's shocked face.

"Katherine Castle. Not in front of the baby!"

* * *

Silence settles on the room for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of Hope snuffling and the little slapping, sucking noises she makes as she feeds.

"We have a baby, Rick," Kate says out of the blue, feeling a surge of love as Hope's little hand clenches around her finger, clinging on so tightly.

"That we do," he replies, leaning down to kiss her forehead, and then stare at his daughter like she might disappear if he looks away for a second.

"You think we'll be good at this?" Kate asks tentatively.

"You forget I've watched you with Alexis, Kate. You're gonna be great at this, because you're already an amazing mother. You just didn't know it yet. But, believe me, you are."

She's torn between 'thank you' and 'I love you', when a huge yawn overwhelms her. Hope is drifting off to sleep too, her little mouth slack, a tiny bubble of milk glistening against her tiny pink lips.

"I think it's time you two took a nap," Castle tells her, checking his watch.

It's after two o'clock in the morning, and he could do with a little shuteye himself, once he gets his brain to quiet down and gets this nervous energy out of his system.

They place Hope in the bassinet beside the bed, and then Castle settles Kate in for the night, tucking the blankets in around her exhausted body.

"You did an fantastic job today, Kate," he whispers to her, as he strokes her hair. "I didn't think it was possible to love you anymore than I already did, but you proved me wrong yet again. You're an amazing wife, and an amazing mother. And I love you so much, Mrs. Castle."

"Feeling's mutual, Mr. Castle," Kate tells him, eyes drooping as she runs her finger across his lips, already drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Sleep, Kate. I'll be right here," he whispers, leaning down to place a feather-light kiss on Hope's forehead.

* * *

He settles in the armchair for a little while, until the nurse pops in to check on them, and with her there, he arranges to leave the room to take a short walk to attempt to deal with his own restless energy.

The corridor is quiet this time of night, silence that presses down like a heavy blanket over everything. As he passes the nurses' station, Castle gets a nod of congratulation from the new night nurse on duty.

He walks the floor once or twice, and then stops to read the noticeboard in the hallway outside one of the Labor and Delivery rooms, checking out the photos of various newborns sent in along with thank you cards to the medical staff by their grateful parents.

A small blue plaque, nailed to the wall beside a pamphlet rack, catches his eye. It reads, "_The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother_."

As the words sink into his brain, his overwhelming urge is to be back in that room with Kate and Hope, watching over them while they sleep; protecting, loving, soaking them in.

The urge to write suddenly hits him too, making his fingers itch, as inspiration surges through him like a new life force. In that one moment, he has never felt so lucky or so alive in his whole entire life. And once again, he is reminded that his dreams really do come true.

_A/N: Thank you to fbobs for the sign and for sharing your own experiences of fatherhood, and to Trinityblade for the baby's name, and to everyone who reviewed and followed for your support and encouragement. This long story is not what I envisioned when I took on that one short exchange from "5x06" about Castle's fertility concerns. But I had such a blast writing it. Until next time, take care. _

_Really looking forward to 'Meet the parents.' Hope they have a lot of fun with that one. Liv_


End file.
